


Bonding Moments

by takumiraine



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Hanzo, Background Genji/Zenyatta/Lucio, Background Lúcio, Background Zenyatta, Disabled Lúcio, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Major Character Injury, Sassy Hanzo, Shooting Competition, They get drunk in one chapter and imply that it happens more frequently, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, pov switching, sacrificial flannel, sacrificial serape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 02:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14034507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takumiraine/pseuds/takumiraine
Summary: When Hanzo comes to Overwatch he mostly keeps to himself. Making friends was not high on his priority list. However Jesse McCree seems determined to get to know him. Hanzo doesn't see the harm in giving the cowboy a run for his money and getting some amusement from it. Toying with the cowboy leads to Hanzo having to deal with his own shortcomings, whether perceived or otherwise. McCree on the other hand is obviously interested, and often complains to his BFF, Genji. Hanzo also winds up discussing things with Genji. Genji wonders how he suddenly became the one with his life together and Zenyatta is proud of how far his Sparrow has come in life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my entry to the McHanzo big bang for 2017-2018. This is also my first finished longer work. Those of you who know me from Saving Your Soul or, god forbid, Playing Human, I will be going back to those now that this is done. There is art of this fic done by the lovely ichi-pichi on tumblr. The link is http://ichipichi-art.tumblr.com/post/172299061449/on-hanzos-doorstep-yay-here-it-is-my-partner. Unlike most of my works (I know I know I'm terrible) this one is completely finished and will be completely posted within 24 hours. Keep checking throughout the day, or bookmark it for tomorrow. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and always read.

Hanzo Shimada was a proud man. Some would say he had nothing to be proud of, but they would be wrong. His past self, the well-trained Shimada clan heir and lap dog would also disagree, but Hanzo did his best to ignore that particular voice. He had come a long way. Although he no longer had resplendent views or a wealth of possessions, he has a home, he has a small number of friends or would-be friends. Though the most important fact was that Genji was by his side once more. With his younger brother's support, Hanzo knew he could accomplish anything that Overwatch dared throw at him. 

He had, however, forgotten how much of a little shit Genji could be. 

Once the recall happened, the Overwatch agents seemed to become less like a crack team of unsanctioned elite operatives and more like a family. They attended weekly meals together, occasionally more often depending on who was around. They had game nights, which turned into “the adults” getting drunk after the younger agents got bored and left to do whatever young adults these days did. And they watched movies. 

Movies happened to be Hanzo's least favorite of the 'bonding activities' here on base. A darkened room with far too few solitary seats listening to a movie he had no interest in watching, while people around him made snide comments and laughed at inappropriate times, greasy popcorn with too much salt being passed around. He always declined of course, hating the way the butter topping coated his skin, no matter how many times he wiped his hands during the film. 

This particular movie night found majority of the team present. To hear Genji tell it, this was almost like before the fall, only with fewer angry arguments in the hallways, and more sentient gorillas. But still there was laughter and people recharged in their own ways. During the movie, Genji usually occupied one of the smaller sofas with him, space enough for just the two of them, if he didn't mind a bit of close contact. Since it was Genji, he didn't, sitting so he could easily tuck his toes underneath one of his brother's cooling vents, which would blow warm air every so often, it was a small tradeoff for the press of metal against him. 

However, at this particular moment, Genji was up and retrieving more popcorn from the kitchen. He could make out the sound of Genji talking to another person, but between the lowness of the voices and the din of the movie, Hanzo couldn't determine who it was or what they were speaking about. So, he did the rational thing and ignored it. After all, Genji had more friends, and more desire for friends, than he himself did, so his brother socializing was an easy thing to ignore. 

At least until someone positively dropped into the spot next to him, nearly crushing his feet in the process. Hanzo snapped his head around in an instant, glowering at the one who not only dared to steal the spot from his brother and invade his personal space all in one fell swoop. It had only been his reflexes that had allowed him to pull his feet back at the last second. Nobody would have faulted him if he kicked the offender off the side of the sofa, right? 

“That seat is taken,” Hanzo stated, frowning at the cowboy who had nearly crushed his sensitive limbs. McCree looked at his face, then down at to where he was adjusting how he curled on the cushion, before looking back up at his face again. 

“My apologies Hanzo,” McCree replied, tipping his hat slightly, “Genji said it'd be alright if I sat here. Said somethin' about sayin' goodnight to his master.” Realization dawned in Hanzo's brain. Genji must have run into McCree and gave up his space to force the two of them to be close. His brother knew about his personal space requirements, as well as how reluctant he was to make friends, the worries that they would see him unworthy if they really got to know him. He would have to talk to Genji after this. 

“D'you two mind?” D.va asked, turning around from her place on the floor. “We're trying to watch Blood Wars Five.” 

Both Hanzo and McCree murmured an apology, falling silent. Hanzo couldn't help but notice how much space the other man took up. Legs splayed as he sat slouched down on the couch, arms draped behind it, that ridiculous hat pushed back on his head enough so that he could easily watch the movie but leaving his eyes in deeper shadow yet. Hanzo on the other hand, had a knee drawn to his chest, the other leg and both arms tucked around the limb. He intentionally took up as little space as possible. He didn't need to project an aura of power anymore. After all, anyone who saw him shoot or train could tell he was deadly. Anyone who looked into his eyes for too long could see the power lying in wait. 

McCree was the epitome of confidence and self-proclaimed swagger. Not that he was unskilled, in fact, the man had been able to take out ten men with six shots during one memorable fight. Nobody wanted to be on the other side of the cowboy's gun when he had to get out of a tight place. Just like nobody wanted to be on the other side of Hanzo's bow when he felt the need to call upon the dragons. 

Minutes passed and Hanzo became acutely aware of every minuscule movement and shift that McCree made. Hanzo couldn't take this anymore. Being in such close proximity to the cowboy was keeping him on edge, and it was getting ridiculous, watching the unkempt cowboy more than the movie itself. If anyone was paying attention to him, they'd probably get the wrong kind of ideas. At least with Genji here he could allow himself to relax. To not have to worry about a casual touch and worrying whether it would be perceived as more. 

He didn't want it to be more. 

He didn't. 

A soft clearing of a throat brought his focus back, and he realized he had been staring. More than that, he had been caught glaring at the man next to him. Frowning, he uncurled his limbs and stood up from the couch, silent and graceful even with the suddenness of the movements. From the corner of his eye he could see the other man staring at him, watching with his head tilted back, a soft frown on his face. Confused maybe? 

It didn't matter. 

Without making a noise he exited the room, intent to find Genji and ask him what the hell was wrong with him. Even in shoes, Hanzo was able to move throughout the halls with a silent grace that most others envied. To be fair, Genji could do it even with all of the metal and cybernetics he had, and he had heard McCree make next to no noise from the spurs and heavy boots that he wore. It wasn't that difficult if you were willing to put the effort in and most people he found were not willing to go through the training required to be silent at all times. 

Locating his brother was not difficult, as they had rooms relatively near to each other in an otherwise mostly unused part of the facility, and he let himself in without knocking. Genji was seated on the floor, with the removable pieces of his cybernetics neatly lined on shelves. The mechanical whoosh of the door opening the only sound as Hanzo entered the room, Genji not even looking up from his meditation, even as he spoke. 

“Hanzo, I didn't expect to see you so soon. The movie should not be over for another hour at least,” Genji stated, face impassive save for a minor quirk upwards of his lips. 

“You never planned to stay for the movie at all did you, brother?” Hanzo asked, still standing in the doorway. 

“Ah, well, Zenyatta likes to make sure that I keep up with my meditations. They've helped me clear my mind of all of the self-loathing I have put myself through these past few years. And he's worried that by being back here, old memories will surface. Come. Sit. Try it.” 

Hanzo stood for a moment, contemplative beneath the scowling exterior, before stepping further into the room, dropping gracefully into seiza before Genji, hands flat on his knees. He too knew the knife that was self-loathing, dragging itself between his ribs and twisting at every available opportunity. The biggest cause of it was the no longer fully human man sitting before him. No matter how many times Genji accepted his apology, no matter how many times Genji told him that he knew it wasn't his fault, but instead the work of the elders manipulating a young mind, no matter how many times Genji told him that it was okay, Hanzo couldn't manage to forgive himself. Couldn't manage to stop hating himself for all of the things he'd done over the years. Honestly, he didn't know if he ever would. 

“Was Jesse's company that disagreeable?” Genji asked him, after several long minutes of still silence that would have been impossible from the boy he once knew. 

“I go to those movies to spend time with you. Not an anachronistic cowman,” Hanzo replied, not really answering the question. Genji tilted his head, considering. It was a habit that mirrored the omnic monk's, Hanzo knew. He had seen them together once or twice before. As jealous as it made him to think of his little brother listening to someone else and admiring someone else that greatly.... Hanzo was thankful that at least Genji had someone to look up to. Someone worthy of looking up to. He paused another moment. "He almost sat on my feet." 

Genji huffed a laugh, before settling and becoming serious once more. “Jesse is a very nice man, brother. He was a friend to me when I needed one. You have seemed like you... needed one.” There was a look in Genji's eye that made Hanzo think back to their younger years. The kind of look he got right before he went and bedded some random person he found who had a pretty face. Hanzo never understood that particular impulse of his brother's. 

“I do not need one,” Hanzo said, simply. “And please do not say things in a manner that suggests you used McCree as one of your dalliances back when you were-” Genji's laughter caught him off guard and he could feel his face heating under the sound. 

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, anija?” Genji teased, pulling out the childhood title out of jest while he reached out to prod Hanzo in the shoulder, a gesture that Hanzo quickly swatted away. 

“No, I am not jealous,” Hanzo spat with a scowl, as he returned his hand to his lap, drawing his tone under control again, “I would just hate to see you trying to pass off your.... used toys... to me.” If anything, that just made Genji laugh harder. 

“Brother, I don't think I have ever seen you go out of your way to attempt to entice someone into your bed.” It was true. In the past anyone he had bedded was at the clan's insistence that he 'use whatever means necessary' to complete a given task. He knew he was handsome, he always had known it, so picking up on the hints dropped by his companions had always been easy enough. And taking them to bed felt nice he supposed, like scratching an itch he didn't know he had. He was always around attractive people, but he wasn't attracted to them per se. 

“It was always a means to an end. There was never any need to go out of my way when Father and the Elders supplied such easy targets.” Hanzo tilted his head up and away in an approximation of a haughty sniff. 

“So, in all these years you haven't? Brother, we must get you laid.” Genji slapped his hand on his knee, the metal making a dull thumping sound as he did. Hanzo shook his head. 

“Not necessary Genji, if I had any interest in bedding anyone I've met so far, rest assured, they would be helpless to resist me.” 

“No interest? Really? Not even in, say.... Jesse McCree?” 

“Is that why you gave up your seat to him? In some asinine attempt to pair me up with someone?” Hanzo asked, hands tightening on his knees as he considered springing to his feet in indignation. However, the action was forgone, as it was too emotional. Too extravagant. Too much of Genji's forte. 

“You need to make friends here, Hanzo. And Jesse is good at seeing the kind heart behind a wall of thorns. Someone should be there to be your friend in my absence if I go back to Nepal for a visit or am on an extended mission.” 

“And you suggested an American who looks like he has been torn out of one of those old movies?” 

“It's not like you've chosen anyone yourself. Besides, my friends have always been your friends.” 

“Your friends were always afraid I was going to have them murdered.” Which, wouldn't have been outside of the realm of possibility, had they brought harm to his brother. Genji seemed to concede the point. 

"Yes, well you did spend the entire time glaring at them like they spat on your shoes." Genji pointed out, before taking several long, slow, meditative breaths. 

“We will continue this discussion at a later date,” Hanzo said, rising gracefully to his feet. He had no real plans for that and they both knew it. However, Genji would insist and they both knew that too. He turned and walked back to the door, feeling the air as it whooshed open. “Goodnight Genji.” 

“Goodnight Hanzo,” Genji replied, returning to his peaceful meditation. 

As the door slid shut behind him, Hanzo returned to his own room, looking out the window at the darkness. He could see the stars, the moon, the few solitary clouds drifting by. He pushed the pane up, letting the ocean's breeze and sounds slip in. He was on the wrong side of the compound for a view, but that was alright. Untying his hair from the silk scarf he used to keep it up and out of the way, he let the tresses spill free again, carding his hand through it and coaxing them to fall more naturally. 

There was a time he used to put his hair into a braid for his training. But it had been longer then, and he had had less patience. So now he just used a single scarf to tie it back out of his face. 

Moving away from the window, Hanzo walked into the en-suite bathroom, small as it was, to shower. He stripped, placing his clothes in the hamper and turned on the water to let it warm, before getting out his towels and washcloth. He had learned the hard way that sometimes the water in this base took ages to heat up. It was quite undignified to curl against the tile and flinch whenever a stray drop touched him. As the air around him began to steam, Hanzo finally stepped into the small shower, easily stepping over the tub's edge and adjusting the curtain around him. 

As he washed the day's grime off of him Hanzo began to let his mind fall quiet again, almost meditative. Feeling the water and soap suds sluice off of him as he scrubbed with a washcloth, hair getting treated with shampoo, then conditioner. Only once he was satisfactorily clean he leaned forward to change the setting from shower to tub, and pushed the lever for the stopper, letting the tub fill around his ankles. He lowered himself to a seated position, and leaned against the back, submerging as much of his body in the hot water as he could, only turning the faucet off when it threatened to splash over the side. He used to condemn himself for being shorter than the rest of the family, after all, what heir was naturally intimidating from such a small stature? However, he fit well in European and American tubs. So at least there was that. 

As he let the tension ease out of his muscles, he thought back to the conversation he had had with Genji. Perhaps it was time he found friends. Some people on base who could share his enjoyment of certain skills with. When the omnic monk joined them, he would be able to join him for meditation, that would be one person who could perhaps be called a friend. Then perhaps others who visited the range for target practice could also become friends. However, Hanzo was at a loss, honestly, on how to make an actual, genuine friend. Sure, he had acquaintances, and people who were beneficial to the Shimada-gumi in his life. People who could act as confidants, and when necessary, bodyguards, but he hadn't had a true friend since he was younger, and even then, his father and the Elders had made sure he would focus on the proper things when the time came. 

And then there was the cowboy, Jesse McCree. The man already seemed to go out of his way to say hello to Hanzo, but he had always passed it off as Jesse having been friends with his brother first, and Genji asking him to keep an eye out for Hanzo. Had their positions within Overwatch been reversed, Hanzo couldn't say he wouldn't have done the same. However, Genji was the one with the well refined social skills in informal settings, whereas Hanzo could navigate his way flawlessly through dinner parties and formal situations. 

Put him in an informal situation without Genji, and he faltered and floundered like a child. He was too stiff and too cold to make much of a positive impact. 

Another place in which he was envious of Genji. 

He dunked his head under the water, letting his hair fan out as if it had a mind of its own. Belatedly he realized the water was starting to get a chill to it and he should be getting out. Slowly he pushed himself out of the water, standing with a practiced grace, and unplugging the tub with his toes, easily looping the chain around the faucet before stepping out of the tub and onto the bathmat. One towel was wrapped around his waist, low on his hips, and the other got ran through his hair, drying it slowly as he exited the bathroom in a gush of steam. Walking over to his dresser he sought out his hairbrush, making sure it was ready for when he finished drying his hair when there was a knock on the door. 

He expected Genji, knocking even though he had an access code for Hanzo's room, which was why he went over and opened it in just his towel. 

It was not Genji. 

It was a suddenly very red in the face Jesse McCree. 

Not to be embarrassed by this revelation, as there was absolutely not any color rising high in his cheeks at the unexpected guest, he offered a small smirk and a tilt of his head, not paying any mind to the way the other man's eyes roved over the expanse of muscle he had on display. 

“Now what brings you to my room at this time of night, Gunslinger?” Hanzo asked, continuing to run the towel through his hair, no longer as dark and likely to be compared to spilled ink, but still just as lustrous as before. 

“Ah... well... I was just goin' to say sorry. 'F I made you uncomfortable with the movie.” Jesse said, rubbing the back of his neck, hat held in his other hand out of respect. Although his eyes had been roving over the unexpectedly nearly nude archer's form, they had snapped up to his eyes when the other man spoke, before being politely diverted as Jesse made his apology. Hanzo considered Jesse for a long moment, leaving the towel to rest in his hand, lips pursed. 

“You did not make me uncomfortable. I was just...surprised." A small lie to benefit the social situation. Maybe he wasn't hopeless at this after all. "I go to the movie nights to spend time with my brother. I had no real interest in the movie. Most of the things the group decides are either pointlessly violent or have no sustainable plot,” Hanzo told him. “Though your apology is appreciated.” He punctuated this with a small bow, the barest hint of a smile that someone had cared enough about whether he had been comfortable to come and check on it. 

All of these years and he still struggled to believe he was his own person sometimes. McCree gave him a nod and put his hat back on, giving him a wave before letting the door shut with another mechanical sound. Without much of a second thought, Hanzo gathered his hairbrush and returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. 

He didn't see McCree in more than passing for almost two weeks. In that time the base had gotten busier, but everyone seemed to be on their own schedules. Only emergency missions were being handled while Angela Ziegler made sure that everyone was combat ready. Or as combat ready as an underfunded, unauthorized, and highly illegal operation like Overwatch could be. 

It was nearing one in the morning and he couldn't sleep. His room felt far too small with too many shadows rearing their ugly heads in his mind. Opening the window and letting the salty breeze in was no help, so the next step would be to go out to it. He left the complex and walked slowly around the perimeter, until he came to the cliffs that separated them from the ocean. This side of the building was relatively shadowed, but Hanzo didn't mind. He had never been afraid of the creatures that went bump in the night. After all, under the right conditions, he was one. 

Breathing in the fresh air, feeling the breeze on his skin, the grass and dirt and stones beneath him as he sat, leaning his back against the wall, hearing the waves crash rhythmically and the occasional cry of the gulls... it was so relaxing. So soothing. It steadied his heartbeat and calmed his racing thoughts. He didn't know how long he sat there, letting his mind drift before he heard the sound of feet coming around the side of the building. They were loud, softly jingling as the person went kicking through grass and knocking rocks into each other. Almost as if the act was deliberate, to not startle someone. 

Honestly in a compound full of people who were essentially assassins, that was the best way to not get harmed. He turned his head just in time to see McCree turn the corner and walk into view. He moved past Hanzo's hidden form with those same intentionally noisy steps, until he got to the other corner, before stopping, and looking confused. McCree scratched his hand through his beard while he looked down the path back towards the front of the facility, then back the way he just came. Before looking up as if whoever or whatever he was searching for had scaled the walls. 

It was then that Hanzo cleared his throat, drawing McCree's attention to him, hand going to his pistol out of reflex. “Looking for something, Cowman?” Hanzo asked, knowing full well what the proper saying was, but wondering if the other man was too polite to correct him. 

“Uh yeah actually. I saw you sneak out and I figured that even though nobody really knows we're here yet, it might not be safe to be out alone.” Jesse said, shrugging his shoulders as he stepped closer. 

“Are you saying that I am not capable of defending myself?” Hanzo asked, raising an eyebrow, folding his arms and pursing his lips in mock affront. He had been told that his affronted look had been particularly scary one night by a drunk Genji. He, of course, was touched by Jesse's concern, and wanted to assuage the man's fears. But there was such a delicious opening that Hanzo couldn't be blamed for taking it. 

"No, no, not at all! I jus' figured that sometimes it's easier to use the buddy system is all, since that way you've got someone to watch your back. Nobody should have to be alone all the time." Jesse threw his hands up in front of him as he spoke, a placating gesture. Hanzo nodded letting the dangerous expression drop with lips still quirked in a near half smile, before gesturing to the empty space beside him. 

"Are you normally watching out for people this late?" Hanzo asked, voice soft against the backdrop of ocean sounds, as if trying to preserve the returned calmness of the area and the quiet of the night. Jesse's steps were quieter now that he was avoiding the possibility of an arrow to the throat. Still louder than Hanzo's own footfalls, but more easily missed if you weren't paying attention. 

"Well, I mean, Athena's usually looking out for the whole compound but I would hate to see someone get hurt and she not know about it just because it's outside of her radar. Here you should be fine, but I dunno how often the scans run. Was never my place to know back before either." 

"I'd imagine Winston would keep it a secret to keep it out of Talon's hands should one of us be captured." A stronger breeze blew in off the ocean and Hanzo took a deep breath, almost feeling the salt in the air as it entered his lungs. "But that doesn't answer the question. Do you make it a habit of watching out for people this late?" The question was still well-intentioned, with just the softest edge of humor to it. At night, when nobody was around, with no expectations, it was easier to be himself. To be the Hanzo that he always had wanted to be but had never had the chance to realize. 

"Even though I'd slept in this base for quite a few years, and plenty of other's like it, it's still hard to sleep with all of the ghosts runnin' around. You shoulda seen Overwatch in its heyday. There were so many people, so much equipment. Sure, it was all hush hush, least in Blackwatch, but it felt like a home. Now it just feels.... I dunno... Broken I guess." Hanzo looked over at his companion's face, though he couldn't make out the emotion on it, what with the shadows from the wall only deepened by the hat he was still wearing, but he could read the emotion in his voice well enough to tell. 

"Do you regret returning?" 

"Never. Reyes gave me a chance to do the right thing and even if he ain't here anymore I'm gonna make him proud. I'm gonna do right by him, by Overwatch, if it kills me." The way both of Jesse's fists clenched against his thighs, the sheer determination and layer of emotion behind the voice, the way his head tilted up in defiance of... something. Hanzo understood. He understood all too well. 

"Genji gave me a similar chance, so I know how you feel. I may not be as loyal to this organization as you are, but I will not ruin what I have with my brother again." Hanzo replied, voice almost a whisper against the wind. 

Neither of them said anything for a long while, Hanzo matching his breaths to the ocean's sounds. This was an oddity, sharing his feelings, listening to others share theirs. He had been taught that feelings were a weakness, but hearing McCree speak about his devotion to Overwatch, the old Blackwatch, and a long dead commander, Hanzo could see that the emotion gave the man strength. He knew from experience that sometimes the difference between life and death was sheer force of will. 

He was certain that McCree had the sheer force necessary to complete his goals. He wasn't certain what the cowboy was aiming for, aside from repaying a debt that he felt he owed. It made him think of himself, with his debt towards Genji. His younger brother claimed he was forgiven, but Hanzo didn't feel like his penance had been completed yet. So, he was going to pay it, even if it meant he died in his brother's stead during a battle. He had attempted to kill Genji once, and most debts demanded to be paid in pounds of flesh. 

It wasn't that he wanted to die. He may have thought he deserved it for what he's done, but he didn't want to die. He wouldn't stop Genji from taking his life as a repayment for the cowardice he displayed, after all, the Elders would have in a heartbeat, had they known what he did. 

Shaking himself from the melancholic thoughts, he tried to focus once more on the ocean in front of him, and found himself starting to feel sleepy. Though in the past he had fallen asleep sitting against walls outside, he was much too old for that kind of nonsense, so he pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand to McCree. 

"I am returning inside to sleep. Are you going to go in as well?" A heavy hand was placed in his own and McCree was lifted up with a surprising ease from the position he had been sitting in. 

"You're stronger than you look" The man commented, adjusting his hat on his head as they set off to the entrance to the compound. 

"I would have to be, in order to draw Stormbow to her full length. Wielding her is not as easy as your little...." Hanzo looked to the man, smirking now, "toy." It was obviously a challenge, obviously a joke. Jesse had the gall to look affronted, even as his laughter boomed throughout the air, thunderous in both timber and voracity. Not as deep as Reinhardt's perhaps, but still, deep enough in the quiet of the night. 

"That sounds like a challenge Han. You sure you can deliver?" There was amusement in his voice, and that same determined look in his eyes that Hanzo was certain Jesse had when he was speaking about why he came back for the recall. 

"I would not have challenged you if I doubted myself or my abilities." Hanzo replied, still smirking to himself as they entered the doors. "When we both have some time, I will easily put you into your place." 

"Alright. Since you're so confident, what do you say about making things a bit more interesting?" Jesse asked, eyebrow raised as Hanzo scoffed. 

"If you are so interested in choosing your punishment, by all means." Hanzo's reply came easily, as he was confident he'd win, regardless of the weapon put into his hand. 

"Loser cooks dinner," Jesse stated, as if that had been his goal all along. To get some meal out of it. 

"Fine fine, but I'll have you know, I have an appreciation for high quality foods, so please plan your menu accordingly." Hanzo told him, as they entered to the compound and he turned to head down the hallway to his room. 

His goodnight to the other man was a simple tilt of his head, before he turned and walked away. Maybe Genji was correct, and Jesse would make a good friend for him. 

The next few days were a flurry of activity, running team drills until their muscles ached and their bodies were littered with bruises, so as a result neither Hanzo nor Jesse had any intention of exacerbating their aches and pains with their planned competition. Even the 'team dinner' that everyone was present for was unusually silent, with only the sound of Lucio's music and Genji's chatter to Zenyatta and Orisa breaking the quiet. 

There were very few times when having a metal body would come in handy. Being beaten and worked like mongrels in training was one of the more frequent ones. Very few people actually stuck around after they ate, instead retreating to their rooms for an opportunity to soak in the tub or to sleep off their aches and pains. Hanzo also retreated to his room, though he was not headed to the tub - not just yet anyways - or to bed. He could already feel his muscles aching in a manner that suggested if he did nothing about it he would hardly be able to leave the bed in the morning. 

Stretches would help. He knew rudimentary yoga as well, and knew that would not only stretch his body but center his mind. He opened his tablet, and pulled up videos that would guide him through the process of limbering his body back up, letting them play softly while he followed along to the instructor. He didn't have a mat, and wasn't planning on retrieving one from the nearby city during a supply run, but he had his used bath towel on the floor and it worked well enough for his purposes, if he could forgive the sliding here and there. 

He moved through the routine effortlessly and sat meditating for a while after, until the light sheen of sweat that had built from the more difficult poses had long since dried. He stood and threw the used towel into the bathroom's hamper, getting out clean towels as he went, stripping and tossing his dirty clothes into the hamper as well, turning on the water and waiting for it to heat. He showered and scrubbed the grime from his skin, then switched to a bath and sank into the tub, as he usually did, only getting out once the water grew cool. 

A towel was wrapped around his waist, the other one rubbing through his hair, and there was a knock at the door. Expecting Genji, Hanzo opened it, only to find, once again, McCree standing there, looking embarrassed at 'catching' Hanzo like this once more. As if he hadn't opened the door knowing full well what he was and wasn't wearing. Still, Hanzo had never been embarrassed of his body, and he was less surprised that Jesse was knocking on his door than he had been the first time. 

"How may I help you?" Hanzo asked, snapping Jesse out of his trance. 

"I just wanted to say that we don't have team trainin' tomorrow, so maybe we should get that competition settled out. That is.... if you still wanted to." 

Hanzo stared at him for a bit, pretending to consider the idea, while enjoying the way that the other man seemed to slowly grow nervous under his gaze. "I suppose that is agreeable. As long as you are still prepared to lose." Hanzo eventually stated, head tilting so he could examine his nails. A gesture of confidence. 

"I think it's you who better be ready to lose partner. I've got this little competition of ours in the bag." Jesse replied, confidence returning with that small gesture of acceptance. As if he had really thought Hanzo would turn down his idea of finishing the competition. Had people blown him off like that before? It made no sense if they had, because Jesse seemed to be legitimately kind. Maybe that was it? People just hated the fact that someone was kind and tried to snuff it out. 

That had been Genji's problem as well. For all of the times that he went and dallied with various frivolities, he had remained kind. Helping people to the best of his abilities whenever he could. Meanwhile Hanzo was hardly allowed away from the compound without an escort or a tail. Not that he ever really had the desire to go anywhere, save to see the cherry blossoms around Hanamura in the spring time. 

"Tomorrow afternoon then?" Hanzo suggested, snapping them both out of the quiet that had stretched on, while drips of water fell from his hair and slid down his chest. McCree's eyes snapped to his and he nodded. 

"Yeah, say 'round 3?" Jesse said, licking his lips and swallowing as if his mouth were suddenly desert dry. 

"I will see you then. Goodnight." 

"G'night"


	2. Chapter 2

The door whooshed shut between Hanzo and Jesse, and Jesse took off his hat to run a hand through his hair, ignoring the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. Seriously, why did that man always have to be fresh out of the shower whenever Jesse came to visit? It wasn't fair. Having muscles that put old statues to shame and water that dripped down from hair that looked so soft even when wet. 

Turning and stomping further down the hallway, Jesse pounded on the door of the next occupied room. It opened with a swish to find Genji still on the floor, meditating. Still in a stomping mood, Jesse stomped over to Genji's bed and flopped face down onto it with a huff, hat pushed back by the bedspread. 

Genji made a humming sound which hinted at his amusement, turning around to sit facing Jesse. "Is something the matter?" Genji asked, causing Jesse to turn his head just enough to see the smirking cyborg out of the corner of his eye. 

"You know damn well what's the matter Genji. Stop grinnin' at me like that," He groused, pillowing his arms around his head in a makeshift barrier. 

"Did Hanzo ignore you when you went to talk to him? I told you he wouldn't be easy to befriend." Genji's reply was still full of mirth, posture loose and relaxed from his meditation. 

"Worse. He opened it in nothing but his towel. He had water drippin' down his chest Gen. It was awful. Sure, he has these murder eyes around everyone else and a holier-than-thou attitude but if you catch him alone he's actually pretty nice. I mean we talked the other night for ages and he was just... real understandin' about shit. Y'know? He has a sense of humor that some people might not get right away, but I challenged him to a shootin' competition an' he seemed real pleased with that." 

"Wait wait wait," Genji interrupted, scooting across the floor so he was closer to Jesse's head. "Let me get this right. You actually challenged my brother to a shooting competition." 

"Yes. Well. He sorta hinted at it but I was the one who asked if that's where he was goin' with it. I wouldn' be surprised if he thought it was his idea. What's the matter with that?" Jesse asked, suddenly defensive. 

"My friend. I say this in the kindest way." Genji placed his hand on Jesse's shoulder as he spoke, still grinning like the cat who ate the canary. "My brother is going to destroy you." 

"Thanks for your vote of confidence. An' here I thought I was supposed to be your favorite." Jesse pulled his hat lower over his head, hiding the remainder of his face from view. "We even made it interestin' for your information. Loser makes dinner." Genji's uproar of laughter made Jesse glad he had his face mostly hidden because of the flush that came unbidden to his cheeks. 

"Oh, I must witness this. It will be a wonderful showing!" Genji exclaimed, "When are you going to have this competition?" 

Jesse pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Now wait just one-minute Genji. I ain't lettin' you crash what could be the beginnin' of a beautiful friendship between me an' Hanzo." If Genji found out when and where on his own, they would deal with it then, but he honestly didn't want anybody's company except for Hanzo's. "He's nicer when nobody's around." 

Genji paused to think about it, tapping his finger against his chin, the metal and carbon fiber making a soft clicking sound. "Perhaps you are right, however watching you get shown up by my brother would be a treat." 

"What makes you so sure I'm gonna lose?" Jesse asked, squinting at Genji in suspicion. Hanzo didn't strike him as the type to cheat, but he had been something of a scoundrel in his past, to hear Genji tell the story of how he got his...upgrades... Jesse wasn't going to hold it against him if the man truly had changed, but it still said something of his determination and ruthlessness. Especially considering the background that the two of them came from. Jesse understood what it was like to have to overcome a rough past though, so he truly had no room to judge. 

"Because my friend, I have seen both of your skills. Although you have good aim, I believe my brother's is better, considering that when I went to tell him I was alive, his skills had only improved since we were young." The implied 'thankfully so had yours' went unspoken by Jesse, instead, it was conveyed only with a look. 

"Well we'll just have to see, won't we?" Jesse asked, dropping his head back down onto the bed. 

The next day found Jesse with a case of butterflies. After all, anyone with eyes could see that Hanzo was attractive and powerful. It only made sense that he wanted to impress the man. Sure, he was hoping that more quiet moments between them could convince the elder Shimada that perhaps they had something, some sort of chemistry, but after hearing the stories about how uninterested Hanzo had been in ever finding someone for himself - with or without their father's help in choosing companions for him - Jesse would just be happy if they could be friends. 

By two, he found himself wandering down to the practice ranges, knowing that his time with Hanzo wasn't set for another hour, but needing something to work off his nerves. The shooting range was a series of smaller booths that were more or less soundproofed, as well as a larger more dynamic range that could be programmed with several different patterns of simulated attacks. Like most of the base, all of it was controlled by Athena. Jesse honestly wasn't sure how it all worked, all he knew was that every encounter seemed to be different. 

Boots clicking on the tile but spurs nearly silent, Jesse made his way to the back of the range, taking the second to last booth for himself. Shutting the door, he pressed his flesh hand to the scanner, and Athena beeped to life. 

"Hello Agent McCree. How may I assist you with training this afternoon?" The AI's synthetic voice drifted through the speakers. 

"Just some trainin' to calm my nerves before I meet up with Hanzo. Could ya also lemme know when he's here?" McCree asked, pulling Peacekeeper out of her holster and giving her a once over for his own peace of mind. 

"Affirmative on the training Agent McCree, also, Agent Shimada is already here. He is in the booth next to yours. Should I alert him to your arrival?" 

Hanzo had beaten him here? "Uh, no, thanks Athena," he said after a long moment. "What time is it?" 

"It is 14:12 and thirty-seven seconds" 

"Alright. Would you run my usual setup and let me know in half an hour?" 

"Of course." 

When the initial wave of bots came up in the range and Jesse blew through them, he felt the same sense of peace that fluttered through him at every opportunity to train. Away from Overwatch and Blackwatch, opportunities had been few and far between. After all, ammo was expensive and ranges generally had his wanted poster up, although they never could get his nose right. So, he often went without training for the sake of training. 

Training for the sake of training was his favorite though. No deaths to count against him, no worry about injury to one of his teammates, to one of his friends, no worrying about anyone getting away. No looming specter of his own impending death. He needed this. 

Seconds blended into minutes as he focused on shooting, on breathing, on clearing his mind and stilling his body. Eventually, the targets stopped coming. Jesse lowered Peacekeeper and looked over at the speaker in the room. "Athena?" 

"Agent McCree, it has been half an hour since you began shooting. You requested that I alert you after that time." 

"Yeah. Thanks. is Hanzo still shootin' next door?" 

"Yes, he is. Shall I contact him for you?" 

"Nah, I got it. Thanks Athena." 

"You're welcome Agent McCree." 

Jesse turned and left the small room and entered back into the main part of the shooting range. Hesitantly he walked to the farthest booth, and peered through the reinforced window, watching Hanzo shoot for just a moment. His hair was tied up in something yellow, while the traditional outfit he wore - a kyudo-gi if he remembered Genji talking about it correctly - made the Japanese man look even more out of place in this era than he himself did. He waited until Hanzo had just fired an arrow to knock, three sharp raps on the glass. 

The man turned slightly, checking him out of his peripheral vision, before setting down his bow and sliding the quiver over his head to set it down next to the weapon. Jesse's entrancement with Hanzo left him only barely managed to back up to make room for the man to exit the room. 

"Hey, I'm a bit early, but Athena told me you were here so..." Hanzo's severe look didn't soften any, instead turning smug. 

"Are you that eager for me to decimate you?" Hanzo asked, arms folded over his chest, dark brow quirked in question. 

"More like I'm eager to see how close you come to my skills." Jesse replied, offering an easy smile. 

"I spoke to Genji last night," Hanzo began. Jesse nearly groaned, because of course they spoke. He remembered Genji telling him once how close he and Hanzo used to be, before everything fell apart. It made sense that they were attempting to work themselves back to that. "He told me that you came to visit him, that you told him of this little competition of ours, but that you wouldn't let him watch. Any particular reason why?" That same little smirk was there, self-assured and dangerous. 

"Because he was thinkin' that you were gonna win. An' I didn' need him messin' up my concentration," Jesse replied with a huff, folding his arms in response. "Now are we gonna keep yappin' or are you gonna put your money where your mouth is and show me what you can do?" 

"Of course, I can show you what I am capable of." Hanzo stated with a mild huff, drawing himself up to his full height, even though it was still shorter than Jesse's own. He often forgot that Hanzo was smaller than him, if only because of how the man carried himself. So much confidence in such a small body. Hanzo walked back to the shooting cubicle that he had previously been in and retrieved his things. “The first task will be a simple stationary accuracy competition. The second will be the same but with moving targets. The third, should we need it,” Hanzo paused pointedly, with a look to Jesse. It took everything in him to not be slightly offended at the smugness radiating off of Hanzo, but he had faith in his skills. “We will swap weapons and attempt to complete the initial challenge again.” 

Drawing Stormbow properly would be a challenge for Jesse for sure, however he doubted Hanzo would be expecting Peacekeeper's kick. This certainly would be an interesting competition. Jesse nodded his assent and gestured to the other half of the range, towards one of the more team oriented areas. “Let's do it in here yeah?” He suggested, beginning to walk over at Hanzo's nod. Athena set up the room around them, a heavy wall raising to separate the two contest areas into identical halves. 

“I will be keeping official score.” Athena intoned, lighting up a 'scoreboard' on the wall behind them “Every bullseye you make will light up a target. The person with the most targets on the wall at the end of the three competitions is the winner.” Both he and Hanzo took their positions at the starting line, waiting for the targets to appear and Athena to count them down. Eyes closed, Jesse took a deep breath, adjusting his hat and shifting Peacekeeper in his grip, moving his feet slightly. When his eyes opened again he was ready for this makeshift battle. While he probably didn't need to get so serious in order to win, he wanted to show Hanzo that he was more than just a laughing oaf or overprotective German Shepherd. The man was enchanting and Jesse wanted to start making a good impression, even though he could not rewrite the first one. Suggesting Hanzo was only here to have another shot at hurting Genji hadn't been the brightest move he'd ever made. But Hanzo seemed to be forgiving him for it, so he could maybe pretend it didn't happen. 

The soft feminine voice of the AI counted them down, and then made several targets appear on the field, identical for each of them. Two were close, two were at a middle distance and two were far away, but they were fairly easy shots. The remaining four were more difficult; angled weirdly, in a small gap, behind some of the boxy artificial 'terrain' which was included for no other reason than to increase the difficulty. Jesse missed the shot where the bullseye has been off center behind an irregular tunnel. At seeing the score, 10 to 9 Hanzo looked at the one he missed, the one that had left Jesse scratching his head at how he had been supposed to hit it, and just smirked, like a cat who had stolen the dog's favorite toy, then quietly remarked, "That shot is simple geometry." Causing McCree to scowl even more deeply. 

"Athena, show me how the hell Hanzo hit that last shot please." He instructed to the gruffly, watching how the arrow skimmed the wall and securely hit the target at an angle, he couldn't blame Hanzo for being smug at his lead. Because now, after having seen the correct angle he could have used, Jesse could have kicked himself. He filed that knowledge away for later though and huffed in Hanzo's general direction. 

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up," he told the smirking archer, "at least I can reach the top shelf at the store." Sour grapes he knew, but it didn't seem to bother Hanzo any. "Athena prepare the next challenge." He groused, pushing his hat further back on his head, before refilling the ammo in Peacekeeper's cylinder. 

He heard the countdown and steadied himself. "Simple geometry my ass..." He muttered, the banging of his first shot covering Hanzo's soft snort of amusement followed by an equally soft curse as the resulting shot was just a hair outside of the bulls-eye range. Jesse paid Hanzo no mind as he took his shots, finding the moving targets easier to hit than the stationary ones. All ten shots were made with relative ease, even the ones that were considered 'tricky' to hit. It had been the same general setup of distances and trick shots after all. He turned to congratulate Hanzo only to see the Japanese man looking at him sourly. 

“You did that on purpose.” Hanzo accused, much to his confusion. 

“Did what Darlin?” He questioned, chancing a glance at the scoreboard and noticing the shot that Hanzo missed. 

 

“Used your buffoonery as a distraction.” Hanzo's reply only made Jesse's confusion grow. 

“I dunno what you're talkin' about Sweet Pea, but I promise you I'd never act a fool on purpose to win a contest I didn' have any business winnin'. Not against a friend.” Not anymore anyways. The Jesse fresh out of Deadlock? He'd have lied, cheated, stole and possibly even put his own mother up for sale if it meant he had been able to win at something or come out ahead. But that was almost a lifetime ago now. He wasn't about to throw away who he is now for who he was then. Not over something so inconsequential. 

Hanzo huffed at him, holding out his hand. “Yes well, it's of no consequence. I will still win this competition.” Jesse just made a show of reloading Peacekeeper then set her gingerly in Hanzo's hand, along with four extra bullets. 

“She rotates clockwise, firing at the twelve,” He instructed, before holding out his hands for the bow and quiver. 

“You will be careful.” Hanzo told him, handing over first the weapon, and then the ammunition for it. 

“Why of course Darlin' I know how much she means to you,” Jesse replied, holding the weapon almost reverently. Athena reset the course as Hanzo and Jesse got ready, Jesse nocking an arrow and drawing it experimentally. The thing clicked and wobbled in his grip a few times before he got it to hold still. He didn't have to look to see that Hanzo was silently judging him. He could feel the stare from those dark eyes. 

Athena ran her countdown, and Jesse fired, the shot not quite hitting the bulls-eye, but lodging into the target. He turned just in time to see the momentary look of shock on Hanzo's face as he fired Peacekeeper and she kicked. But he adjusted his stance and was ready again. Jesse drew another arrow and took his breath. 

By the end of it he had hit four targets, managing to score one bulls-eye out of it, though he honestly wasn't sure how because it was the last shot and his arms were shaking so badly he doubted he could have hit the broad side of a barn. Hanzo had hit six of the targets, securing himself four additional bulls-eyes. 

He had a new appreciation for Hanzo's strength and skill right now. He didn't think he would be able to lift his arms anytime soon. The smaller man was muscular, yes, but nothing that would suggest to Jesse that his bow required that much effort. Hanzo made it look so easy. Jesse had watched him run through training; drawing and firing with only the slightest flex of his muscles. 

“Goddamn Hanzo. I ain't even mad.” He muttered, trading the bow for his gun with only the slightest grimace, forcing his fingers to go through the usual post training checks even though Peacekeeper's weight in his palm felt as if she were trying to drag him through the floor. Hanzo seemed to brighten slightly due to his subtle admission of defeat and praise. He hid it well, taking another arrow from the quiver and drawing it, before letting it fly into the nearest target. He heard the low hum, even though he was certain Hanzo didn't mean for him to hear it. 

"You did not damage her, and you performed better than expected." The Japanese man said, offering a nod of his head, pleased. "As such, I will allow you a few days to prepare the meal you owe me." While Jesse was standing there stunned, the other man collected the arrows still in targets and left. Jesse didn't even have the energy to check out Hanzo's ass as he bent to retrieve some of the arrows, instead just gaping dumbly at the space Hanzo's head usually occupied. 

"Well shoot..." Jesse murmured to the empty room several minutes after Hanzo left. "I forgot to ask him what he liked." 

Holstering Peacekeeper was a difficult task, but he managed it, arms still caught somewhere between limp and pained. Still he figured that a hot shower would probably help his muscles stop behaving like overcooked noodles and trucked off to his room, hands kept in his pockets to stop anyone from noticing how shaky they were or how awkwardly he held them. The shower helped somewhat, though he could assume the relief was only temporary, as he shrugged into a pair of Blackwatch sweats that were left over from 'the good old days'. Dark fabric and an even darker emblem both over his heart and on his thigh. They were tighter than he remembered, the thinness of his early twenties long since gone, but they were still loose enough to be comfortable. Nothing like Gabe's story about Jack "crop top" Morrison from the SEP days. Between laundry service always shrinking everything and the injections having a nasty habit of making you grow practically overnight, it wasn't a surprise Jack wound up with Overwatch clothing that was way too small. 

He'd give almost anything to hear Gabe tell the story again. To be sitting around the rec room's table with him and Genji, drinking beers, playing cards and listening to all kinds of incriminating stories about 'The Golden Boy'. Say what you wanted about Gabriel's personality, the man knew how to tell a hell of a great story. 

But the story wasn't his to tell. It wouldn't do to speak ill of the dead, even if there were rumors that Gabe had pulled an Ana and was still alive. 

He wouldn't be surprised, but he wasn't going to go inviting trouble either. 

He figured Hanzo would be done cleaning up so he shoved his feet back into his boots and dropped his hat on his head, before exiting his room. Way down the hall, past Genji's room, was Hanzo's and he knocked on the door, a few light raps and waited, subtly flexing the muscles in his arms to keep them from locking up and embarrassing him. The door opened and.... 

He either had amazing luck, or awful luck, because there was Hanzo. Wearing nothing but a towel once again. He didn't even realize he was staring, breath held, watching drips of water slip down Hanzo's chest, disappearing after sliding down his stomach. 

Maybe there was a God. 

Hanzo cleared his throat, startling Jesse so badly he made a noise that was definitely manly and absolutely not a squeak. 

"Can I help you?" Hanzo asked, one eyebrow arched dangerously in his direction. "Or are you going to stare at me until I slam the door in your face?" 

These doors didn't slam, but Hanzo's point was well received. "Uh... no Han... I jus'.... you left before I could ask... If I'm gonna be cookin' for ya, I need to know if you're allergic to anythin'." Jesse shifted on his feet, eyes still flicking to Hanzo's chest, especially when those powerful arms folded across it, tattoo almost moving of its own accord across his skin. Shit was it hot in here or something? Athena really needed to turn down the heat in the base for chrissakes. He was so busy shifting uncomfortably that he almost missed the response. 

"I have no food allergies. Was that all?" Hanzo asked, staring resolutely at his face. Jesse nodded, and stepped back, letting the door slide shut, thankful that Hanzo didn't comment on how much of an idiot he had been, or how he had spent the whole time awkwardly aroused. Jesse had missed the moment when his dick had become a part of the conversation but now that he was aware of it, it was quite insistent that it be recognized. 

And of course, his sweatpants did nothing to hide the damn thing. 

If he was lucky Hanzo hadn't noticed. 

Now he couldn't even go whine to Genji about what an idiot he was, and how he made a fool of himself in front of his brother. It wasn't fair! 

Carefully, as to not give his dick any more of the wrong idea than it already had, he slunk back to his room, wishing he could slam the door behind him as he flopped onto his back in bed, pressing the pillow to his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Hanzo stood behind his door for a lot longer than strictly necessary. Jesse's eyes on him had left him feeling unsettled in a way he was unused to. It wasn't the fact that the cowboy had been aroused that bothered him. He wasn't a stranger to arousal. It was more the fact that he had wanted.... to say something about it? In the same manner that he knew Genji would have. Teasing, joking, putting that dry wit of his to good use. But.... If he had then what? That probably would have either made Jesse think that they were friends or that he was interested. Neither of which were true. So, what now? 

Huffing to himself Hanzo got dressed and began brushing his hair, missing when the strands were long enough to pull over his shoulder and properly run his fingers through. It was only times like this when he missed the rhythm and repetitiveness of brushing his hair. When he needed something to soothe his rankled nerves. He almost wanted to go to Genji, after all the cowboy was Genji's friend. He would be able to offer some insight as to whether the gunslinger was truly interested or not. If he was, Hanzo would have to end this.... whatever it was.... now. Sure, it was flattering, but damn it he didn't have time for this. He was trying to make amends with his brother and undo a decade or more of pain and suffering! 

Sure, some might say that it was obvious Genji had already forgiven him, but he needed to make sure that Genji knew that this would never happen again. He had to be the true big brother that Genji deserved. The expectations that he set upon himself demanded that he push through and be someone who was worthy of being looked up to. 

People had said before his pride and stubbornness would be his downfall. And they had been. They had taken everything he held dear and twisted it. Sure, the elders had helped, but it had been, in the end, Hanzo's choice. 

And he had made the wrong one. 

So now it was up to him to correct his past failures in whatever way possible. Setting the brush down, he tried to settle his mind. Moving from in front of his mirror, he settled himself down for his evening meditation, trying to force back all of the thoughts that Jesse's stupid visit had stirred within him. As embarrassed as Jesse had seemed to be by the end his visit had been rooted in a kindness that Hanzo didn't deserve. Kindness for kindness' sake always left him feeling rankled and unsettled. After all, he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve having anyone go out of their way to be kind to him. Especially not one of Genji's friends. 

He didn't deserve Genji's kindness either. Nor that monk's. Both of whom had decided that what he needed to hear was he had already been forgiven and the only thing he needed to do was forgive himself and open himself to new love from people who surrounded him. 

Bah! 

He grit his teeth, attempting to force back the tide of irritation that came with that thought. Forgive himself? Why should he? It was all his fault that Genji's hands were stained with blood. It was his fault that instead of blood in his baby brother's veins it was a green liquid of some sort. It was his fault that over 70% of Genji's body was destroyed. 

Why in the name of any God, should Hanzo forgive himself? 

Jesse just had to visit and be kind instead of letting him enjoy his victory in peace. Damn it all to hell and back! 

Shoving himself to his feet, Hanzo stomped out of his room, dragons churning under his skin, itching to take his sudden fury and release it. Instead of giving into that very tempting impulse - honestly, he couldn't be the first man to scream obscenities at the sea - he stormed down into the little kitchen and went rifling through it for some decent sake. In absence of that something strong. His eyes first landed on a bottle of whiskey, passing it up because it had 'McCree' written all over it. Figuratively of course. Had the man's name actually been there, Hanzo didn't think that he'd be able to pass up the chance to 'get revenge' on him for ruining Hanzo's mood. Instead he grabbed the bottle of vodka. 

It was a vile drink but it would get the job done. 

He wanted to stop thinking. Wanted to be able to release his anger and go to sleep. 

He wanted to stop hating himself. 

Alcohol probably wouldn't help too much with that last one, but at least he wouldn't remember hating himself all night. 

Grabbing the bottle and a couple pieces of fruit, Hanzo skulked out of the base back to the previous spot overlooking the water. He trusted himself, even drunk, to not trip and fall to his death. After all, he was a ninja. He was also much better at being a ninja than Genji was, when his brother had been human. 

He would be fine. 

Hanzo walked down the narrow path, behind the buildings until he found the place in the shadows that he and McCree had occupied two weeks ago. The birthplace of this stupid bet. The reason behind his bad mood. It was fitting that he was going to sit here and get drunk. 

He removed the cap from the bottle and put it to his lips, taking a swig. He swallowed the burning liquid with a grimace of disgust. He couldn't believe that such a useful thing tasted so awful. 

It wasn't awful enough to make him put it down and go back inside however. Hanzo was determined to power through to the point where it didn't taste terrible anymore. One drink turned into two, turned into three. Soon the sea spray didn't sting his cheeks, and he settled deeper into the corner to avoid being spotted by any of Athena's visual sensors. The dragons under his skin calmed somewhat under the effects of the alcohol. His mind had calmed somewhat too, thoughts less harsh in the haze of alcohol that was starting to seep into him. He wasn't drunk, not yet. But the buzz was becoming pleasant. 

He thought of finding Genji. Of throwing himself to the floor and apologizing until he was truly forgiven and not just because his wonderful baby brother was apparently a monk now. A monk with someone new to look up to. Someone who was worthy of being idolized. Hanzo couldn't allow himself to be jealous of Master Zenyatta. The omnic had been nothing but nice to all of them since they met and Hanzo couldn't be outright mean to someone who Genji cared for. Who had gone out of their way to help his little brother back when Hanzo had fucked it all up. 

He stared somberly at his knees as he took another drink from the vodka bottle. 

How he wished to go back in time and choose the other path. Choose standing up for himself, for Genji, to stand up to them instead of letting them destroy the only thing he had ever truly wanted to protect. His dragons would have supported him. Then it could have just been the two of them taking on the world as the true Shimada Empire. 

But that was impossible now. It had been impossible then. He just needed to get through this with minimal collateral damage. Hanzo had just taken another drink when he felt someone's presence beside him. He turned ready to tell them to go the fuck away when he saw it was none other than the cowboy himself making himself comfortable. 

"Go away," he grumbled, sullenly taking another drink and then returning his arm to lay across his knees. 

"Now where'd be the fun in that? You'd just be drinkin' alone an' that's sad." Jesse stole the bottle from him with easy fingers and took a swig before returning it just as easily to Hanzo's grasp. Hanzo resisted the urge to hide the bottle from him. It was childish. Both his behavior and his thoughts. He rarely acted so petulantly. Stolen liquor shouldn't be the reason he did. And yet... 

"Why are you here?" Hanzo asked, gripping the neck of the bottle tightly, as to avoid it getting stolen again. 

"Well, y'see I was goin' to the kitchen to get me somethin' to drink cause it's hard to sleep after makin' such a colossal fool of myself, an' I saw you slippin' away with the bottle. I figured you'd probably want some company since nobody likes drinkin' alone." That was partially true. Hanzo never drank alone because he wanted to. He drank alone because he didn't have anyone to drink with. Besides he knew he could get difficult to be around when drunk, even when he didn't have years of self-loathing to deal with. Hell, Hanzo knew he was difficult anyways. He was a difficult man with a difficult past and there was no fixing that. 

"Company is overrated," he replied, turning his face away in an attempt to be nonchalant. 

"I've found," Jesse started, slipping the bottle from Hanzo's fingers again, "that the folks who usually say that, ain't used to havin' much company worth havin'." Hanzo watched from the corner of his eye as Jesse took a drink, then returned the bottle to where he got it from. 

"I disagree. Usually I am the company not worth having," Hanzo muttered, taking another drink once the bottle was firmly back into his grasp, head tilting back as he swallowed. When he tilted his head back he could clearly see McCree staring at him, an odd look on his face. "If you are going to stare at me like I have suddenly grown an extra head, you can leave," He snapped, glare slotting itself firmly in place even though it was slightly wobbly on its way in from the alcohol. Between them the better part of the bottle was gone. 

"Now there's where I gotta disagree Sweat Pea. Bein' with you's nicer than a cold drink on a dog's day in the desert." Hanzo snorted his disbelief at the cowboy's words. 

"Really Cowman? Did my brother put you up to this?" Hanzo questioned, glaring over at him. "Because I am well aware that you were his friend first and I, for one, do not require pity friendships. Thank you." He punctuated his statements - too loud and too dramatic for his tastes whilst fully sober; a rose tint to his cheeks - with another drink from the bottle, glaring at Jesse the whole time. 

Jesse waited till he was done, but didn't say too much more about him being nice. Instead he just took the bottle and took a drink, leaning back to look out at the stars and the ocean. "Yknow, when Genji came here he was madder'n a rattlesnake too. Lashin' out at people an' just bein' an ornery cuss. Blackwatch gave him a purpose, but it didn' fix his hurts. I wasn' able to do as much as I should'a, considerin' he thinks'a me as his friend an' all. None of us here have good backgrounds. I was a seventeen-year-old lil' shit when Gabriel rescued me from hell. Eventually got paired up with your brother, who'd just as soon shoot at me with his knife things as say hello." 

"Shuriken," Hanzo corrected, interrupting the story. "They're called shuriken." 

"Right. Either way they hurt like hell when they'd lodge into my ass." That forced a chuckle out of Hanzo, unbidden. "Losin' my arm was awful, I wouldn' recommend it. An' I'm ramblin' but the point is. Be shitty to me if you want. I can take it. And I ain't goin' nowhere." 

Hanzo made a noncommittal noise. The idea of Genji repeatedly launching shuriken at McCree was an amusing one, and he made a mental note to ask Genji about it once he had sobered up. If he remembered. Twisting himself around again, he let the bottle wobble between his fingers. 

Maybe, if Jesse had put up with all of that and still remained kind, there was hope for Hanzo too. Hope that years down the line they'd have that same easy comradery that he and Genji had. Shared jokes and old stories about how terrible they were to each other at the beginning. He doubted it, and the wishful thinking would probably come back to bite him in the ass, but he could hold onto it now, while his mind was fogged with alcohol. 

Turning his head to regard the cowboy once more, lips pursed in thought until he saw it. The bottle of amber liquid tucked just under the ridiculous red serape. "You.... you...." Hanzo started, accent getting thicker and English getting harder as more and more alcohol got into his system. Instead of continuing to fish for the correct word, Hanzo lurched towards McCree, snatching the bottle of tequila from under the red cloth. "You deceiver!" Hanzo eventually shouted, the word popping into his head as he shook the full bottle at Jesse. 

"Now Honey Bee I said I was getting a drink, not that the drink was water," Jesse replied smoothly, even as Hanzo pressed the tequila into his own lap and capped the vodka, only to open the tequila and drink from it, enjoying the taste much more than he did the vodka. Jesse reached for the bottle and Hanzo turned, holding it out of reach and pressing the vodka bottle into Jesse's hand instead. "Aw, Han, don't be greedy," Jesse responded, pouting at the bottle in his hand. 

Hanzo just sniffed at him, turning so his back was closer to Jesse than the bottle was, muttering that he'd 'be whatever he damn well pleased,' under his breath in Japanese, finding English too difficult for the moment. 'The dragon consumes you' he murmured with a soft snort to the bottle, still in his mother tongue, before tipping it back and taking a few more swallows of the amber liquid, chuckling to himself at the warmth of his cheeks. 

The night passed in a similar fashion and soon Hanzo awoke to the feeling of intense warmth, both behind him and from the sun on his face. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the sun and the slight throbbing in his head.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Hanzo noticed upon waking was that everything was so bright he didn't dare open his eyes. The second thing he noticed was the splitting headache that pulsed with every breath he took and every crash of waves upon the shore. That got Hanzo to bring a hand to cover his eyes so he could slowly open them. If he had any hope of curing the hangover before lunchtime, he absolutely needed to shut his window and pull the shade. And stop breathing so loud. God, Hanzo had never irritated himself with his breathing while hungover before. That honor was usually bestowed upon Genji, who would be the one to 'acquire' bottles of sake when they were younger and convince him to help destroy the evidence. Then they would awaken the next morning cursing their existence and each other, while both being unwilling to move from the pile of tangled limbs and blankets they managed to find themselves in. After all changing rooms whilst that inebriated had been far too much of a challenge when they were younger and they would rather just sleep it off when they got to that point, regardless of who else was in the bed with them. 

Hungover mornings usually meant Hanzo telling Genji he hated him, and Genji hissing at him to shut up, then both kicking weakly at the other until one of them had to piss badly enough to get up. Now he was older, which meant he didn't need to help his brother hide evidence of their illicit drinking. But it also meant he woke up without anyone to share his misery with. He pushed his hands down into his mattress in order to slowly bring himself to his knees and was rewarded with a grunt in return. 

What. 

The grunting mattress was enough to make him brave the headache enough to open his eyes without the coverage of his hands only to find himself face to chest with Jesse McCree. 

How in the world...? Hanzo thought to himself, before the memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. The drinking because he was caught in a cycle of self-loathing over his previous actions, and the gunslinger who paid him far too much attention than sheer camaraderie deserved. McCree joining him even with all of his insisting that he wanted to be alone, and that the cowboy should just go away. The two of them, but mostly him, drinking a bottle of vodka and a bottle of tequila. Feeling the soporific effects of alcohol and the chill of the night, which led to McCree draping his ridiculous red serape over the two of them. At which point he must have dozed off. 

Somehow during the night, they had shifted to a sleeping position, McCree on his back and Hanzo on top of him on his stomach. Which meant that the 'soft mattress' he had been pressing into.... He looked down at his hand, which was on McCree's stomach, a soft layer of flesh hiding the solid muscle underneath. He pressed against it again, earning another grunt from the man. 

"Han, darlin, 'm tryin to sleep here. Stop squishin' me." His companion's voice was rough, thick from sleep, hat pulled over his face to block out the sun. The serape had slid down from Hanzo's shoulders and was now pooling over his lower legs. 

"Wake up you fool." Hanzo hissed, smacking him in the side. "Explain yourself." This got Jesse sitting up on his elbows and yawning, reaching one hand to scratch through his beard before lifting his shirt slightly to scratch at his side and hair covered stomach.

"Well y'fell asleep against my shoulder in the middle of somethin' about Genji and honor. So, I jus' figured ya needed rest." He gave a half shrug, the scratching hand making its way further up to the cowboy's chest. 

"And that is all?" Hanzo asked, lips pressed into a tight line. Jesse looked confused. 

"Are you suggestin' I'd take advantage of ya while you were sleepin'? That's just unsavory. I'm wounded Han... I'm a better man than that an' you know it." Jesse pressed his hand over his chest in an affronted motion. Hanzo assumed it was to really sell the mock hurt. 

Hanzo hadn't meant anything like that, instead worried about sharing more of his self-loathing and previous difficulties connecting with others and the like than he had originally done. But since Jesse's mind seemed to go into other territory Hanzo assumed he was in the clear. Satisfied, Hanzo stood, rising to his feet without help from his hands. He was steady and sure of his movements due to decades of practice, and it was a blessing due to the way his head throbbed. Absently, his body recalled that there was a chill in the air. Hanzo almost missed the cowboy's warmth, or that of his serape. 

That idea was quickly dismissed as silly and unnecessary, 

"I am going to do everything in my power to rid myself of my headache, then take a shower. Hopefully if you do decide that something is important enough to visit, you do not meet me before I am dressed again." Hanzo stated, the faintest of wry smirks on his features as he turned on his heel and returned to his quarters. Hanzo crept through the compound as quietly as he could, without making it look like he had been doing anything untoward all night. He didn't want rumors to be spread about his activities after all. When Hanzo returned to his room, he laid on the bed in the dark, eyes closed. He looked asleep, certainly. But he didn't plan on actually sleeping. Too much sleep would actually throw off his carefully crafted schedule of deprivation in order to keep him sleeping deeply enough, when he did sleep anyways, that he would remain dream free. He would rather have a higher quality sleep, than a higher number of hours slept. 

Deciding that he had laid there long enough, and that any longer would cause him to fall asleep, he pushed himself up again, belatedly missing McCree's warmth. Shaking himself of that thought he stripped and moved into the attached bathroom, stepping into the shower, turning the spray to as hot as he could stand it, and sighing softly when the heat and pressure began to work out the worst of his knots. Usually he would lounge in the bath, but having hot water beating on his stiff muscles was far more relaxing this morning, even if it was noisier. 

As he exited the shower some time later and returned to his bedroom, Hanzo heard the chirp of his communicator from where he had left it on his desk. Opening it, he saw the blinking 'Mission briefing' message, which informed him that Winston had set one for 05:30 the next morning. A soft sigh left his lips. It seemed as if he would have to postpone collecting his reward from McCree. 

Hanzo changed into sweatpants, hand me downs from Genji's Blackwatch days. They were comfortable and soft, so he didn't have much reason to deny the suggestion. In the past, Hanzo would have been furious that someone - even Genji - had suggested he wear his younger brother's clothing. But that had been his pride speaking, pride that had been largely smothered over the past decade. 

Hanzo opened his door in order to go to the cowboy's room and explain the fact that he was being sent on a mission, only to find McCree standing there. The man looked him over, seemingly stunned, until Hanzo cleared his throat. 

"Oh, sorry Han. I was jus' comin' to tell ya I'm gonna have to reschedule our little dinner date," Jesse explained, shuffling his feet in regret. "I've got a mission." 

"What a coincidence," Hanzo replied, "I have also been selected for a mission. Perhaps we are on the same one." 

"That's likely. Overwatch is still all hush hush after all," Jesse said, leaning against the door frame. "Where'd you get the Blackwatch sweats? I didn't think we had any more jus' lyin' around." 

"They were Genji's. From when he still wore clothing over his armor." 

"Ah, yeah. That makes sense." Jesse nodded. They stood there in relative silence for a while, the time stretching into awkwardness before Jesse scuffed his shoe against the floor and pushed off of the wall. "Well I'm gonna get goin' have a nice night Hanzo." Jesse turned away, before throwing over his shoulder "By the way, you look real good in 'em." 

Hanzo was thankful McCree's back was to him, so the cowboy couldn't see his blush, and let the door shut, waiting a few minutes before going to find Genji. 

The following morning's mission briefing went blessedly quickly. Only three members would be going, four if you counted their pilot, Lena. Hanzo, Jesse and Genji's job was to run reconnaissance for a future mission. It should have been easy enough to do without a medic. Besides, Ana was on a different mission, Lucio and Zenyatta were both too conspicuous, and Angela couldn't be pulled away from running medical for the remainder of the team unless it was a large mission. Honestly, all they had to do was get eyes on their target so they could track it if it left, while they set up for a capture mission. It was an easy mission on paper. Genji sneaks in to confirm the shipment, Jesse gives ground cover, and he watches from the air. 

Except, no plan ever survives contact with the enemy. 

He saw the trouble when it was nearly too late to do anything about it. A grenade launcher from upwind. Aimed right for Jesse. By the time he would have been able to line up his shot, it would have been far too late. Instead, he dropped down off the rooftop and landed noiselessly behind McCree, bow drawn, waiting for the right moment. He took a breath and released the arrow. Then he watched, almost as if in slow motion, as his arrow hit the grenade, tip lodged securely in the top of the thin metal, sending it spiraling backwards rather than impaling itself in the explosive and pushing it solidly backwards. He heard Genji shout, felt McCree turn at his back, but that didn't stop the grenade from peeling apart and sending shrapnel everywhere in a flash of light and burst of heat. At first, Hanzo thought he had been extraordinarily lucky. But the light faded and the heat didn't, so he risked a glance downwards. 

Crimson was blooming across his abdomen, slowly spreading towards the ground. He blinked, once, twice, a third time. "Oh...." he softly exclaimed, pressing his fingers into the injury, surprised he didn't feel much more than a dull twinge, fingers coming back nearly dripping wet, although not with the tackiness he expected of blood. He turned halfway to face Jesse, only to see Genji hovering behind the gunslinger's shoulder. There was fear in Jesse's eyes, and confusion momentarily crossed his features as he blinked down at his stomach once more - the red spot had grown, looking more like a waterfall of blood heading towards his feet with each new moment. "I think...." He began, wetting his lips with his tongue. When had his mouth gone so dry? "I believe I am injured." He tried again, before wavering on his feet as he lifted his hand to show his companions his fingers. 

He felt strong arms carefully wrap around him, pulling him back against a chest which could have been an inferno for how warm it was. "Easy there pardner." Jesse cooed in his ear as he lowered the two of them two the ground. Hanzo hissed, dropping his head onto the man's shoulder. Jesse was a furnace behind him, but Hanzo was still freezing cold. He opened his eyes and sought out his brother's visor. 

"Genji, finish the mission," He growled through his teeth. The pain came and went in waves, and it was getting more and more difficult to breathe. Genji lingered for another moment, leaned down and whispered something in Jesse's ear and disappeared with all of the grace and speed expected of a Shimada warrior. He'd rather die here like an animal than let the mission fail simply because he was a failure. If he had hit the grenade sooner. If he had hit it more in its center instead of sending it toppling end over end.... No. There was no time for ifs now. 

Distantly he heard McCree calling for him, telling him to open his eyes. Funny. He couldn't remember shutting them. He pushed his eyes open again, taking note of McCree's mouth moving, though the words felt like they were coming from underwater, slow and out of sync with reality. His eyes fluttered and then fell shut again. 

Hanzo's last realization before everything went black was that he wasn't cold anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Jesse McCree was not a religious man. He didn't go to church, had never been baptized, _definitely_ didn't keep kosher, and the Ten Commandments were more like.... suggestions most of the time. But he'd be a liar if he said that he didn't think a prayer as Hanzo's eyes closed that last time. 

"Lena, we need you here yesterday. Let Ang know Hanzo took a grenade to the guts and is fulla shrapnel." He was pleased, and somewhat relieved, that his voice came out as steady as it did. He'd probably catch hell from Ana or Jack (but not Gabe, never Gabe again) for using their real names over comms. But he could not give less of a shit about regulations at this moment. What he cared about was making sure Hanzo didn't stop breathing. He pressed his hands hard into Hanzo's abdomen, biting his lip at the initial gush of blood that spilled through his fingers no matter how tightly he had them clenched. Swearing he removed his hand and pulled off his flannel and pressed it into the wound instead, thankful that it seemed to be doing more than just his hands had been. He wrapped his arm around Hanzo's middle, over the flannel, and pulled the man to his chest, dragging him in a shuffle that was half crab walk, half kneeling and crouching, behind some crates, more hidden from their previous assailant. 

The whole time they moved and waited - it felt like an eternity and a half - Jesse kept murmuring encouragements in Hanzo's ear, using the cheesiest nicknames he could think of, hoping that if anything would encourage Hanzo to hold on a bit longer, it would be out of the need he felt to lodge an arrow into his ass over the use of such silly names. 

"The target is here. I repeat I have eyes on the target." Genji's voice came through his comm, just as steady as he anticipated from someone as well trained as Genji was. McCree's traitorous brain supplied that it was another similarity between Genji and his brother. He pressed his face into Hanzo's hair again and let loose a shaky breath, moving to pick Hanzo up even before Lena's chipper voice - though now tinged with a false note - slipped into his ear. 

"I'll be at extraction in five. Mercy says she's ready for our patient." The news was a relief. That would give them just enough time to get there. Nobody should have to wait. He grunted out an 'affirmative' into the comm, then wrapped Hanzo up in his serape, and picked him up, bridal style. The man would never have allowed it, but extenuating circumstances and all that. 

"Please Darlin', don't die on me. I lost Gabe, I can't lose you too." Jesse pleaded near silently as he carried Hanzo towards the designated spot. He was wearing just his undershirt and chest piece now; the remaining bits of his wardrobe having been sacrificed to Hanzo's well-being. "I promise I won't gawk at ya after yer showers no more. Well I promise to try. I ain't perfect, but damn, if you ain't the closest thing to it I've ever seen. I wish I had the guts to tell ya when you were awake. Maybe...." Jesse trailed off as the faint sound of Lena's plane grew closer. It would be a dull roar in a minute, but Hanzo was still breathing. The blood seemingly slowing, although the man was dangerously pale. He was hoping that sheer rage at the words floating into Hanzo's subconscious kept him holding on. After all, the man would have hated to hear all the sappy things Jesse had been spewing had he been awake to hear it. Jesse knew that sometimes, the difference between living and dying was the fact that you were a stubborn cuss who didn't know when to say when. 

He waited in silence for the plane, climbing on and strapping Hanzo into the seats, laying him across three rather than sitting him up. Now of all times he was cursing them not having a medic. Simple mission, they said. Shouldn't need one, they said. Can't spare Angela, they said. Everyone else is too ostentatious, they said. The mocking tone his thoughts took matched the sour look on his face as he adjusted the serape around Hanzo, feeling the squish of blood in the wool, almost certain he'd be leaving a puddle of it behind on the transport. 

This was all his damn fault. Hanzo shoulda let him take the grenade himself. Shoulda been his punishment for leaving his hind end unguarded like that. Genji was sat next to Hanzo, not strapped in, face mask pulled off to regard his brother impassively. 

"Do not fret." Genji stated, sounding more like his new master than the man Jesse knew a long time ago. "My brother is much too stubborn to die from a wound like this. He had received many worse ones when we were children." Jesse wasn't sure if Genji was lying or not. The cyborg _did_ like to try to stretch the truth whenever he could. However, this didn't seem like something he'd lie about. Jesse settled for frowning, and nearly tipping over. as the small, modified cargo plane lurched into motion again, flying as fast as Lena could make it go. Jesse couldn't help but worry, even with Genji's reassuring words. He could see spots of a different colored red seeping through his serape, and it made him nervous. Hanzo already looked so pale. 

The flight passed in silence and the door opened before the plane even made it close to touching down, Genji standing in the doorway as Angela flew up to meet them in her Valkyrie suit, staff already sending tendrils of life out to touch Hanzo before her feet touched the ground, Genji's steadying hands at her waist as she touched down. She immediately got busy taking vitals and slowly peeling back the layers of cloth, speaking into her comm, probably set to a private channel directly to Athena, in rapid German, no doubt assessing and having the AI set up the surgery suite. 

The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze. He remembered the plane touching down and going through the initial debriefing. Though if you asked him later he'd have said that he was like a puppet, someone else controlling his actions and voice. He remembered moving robot like through the halls, passing Hanzo's room to get to his own. He remembered stopping and staring at Hanzo's door, thinking that if he just knocked the man would be there, fresh from a shower as he always seemed to be, before catching himself and realizing there was a chance that Hanzo may never be in that room again. That thought had his throat and chest constricting painfully and he remembered moving to his own room, stripping off what was left of his clothing, now covered in blood, and getting into the shower, scrubbing and scrubbing until his skin was clean and pink and tender to the touch, water steaming and warming the prosthetic he forgot to take off. The water wouldn't harm his hand, he'd just have to be extra careful later drying it out. 

He wondered if the lack of Hanzo's reaction to him, other than mild contempt, was just a Hanzo thing or a sign that the man truly wasn't interested. He thought of their competition, of the dinner that he owed Hanzo, wondered if he had any real shot. He turned off the water and got out of the shower, standing there naked and dripping on the floor as he wiped the steam off his mirror and stared at himself critically. Sure, he had muscle, but he also had the too obvious telling of age and a few too many helpings of whatever Reinhardt had made that night. Meanwhile even if Hanzo was older than he was, there was still very little sign of any of the slowdowns that age brought, save for those touches of gray in his hair. 

He shook his head rapidly, sending a spray of water across the room as his hair flopped into his face. He needed a haircut. He reached out with his flesh hand, grabbing the towel hanging off of a hook on the wall, running it through his hair as he turned away from the mirror. He opened his bathroom door and walked into the main bedroom, getting dressed in the first clean clothes he could find. 

"Hey Athena." He said to the empty room. A soft chime echoed before her voice, signaling she was online and ready to answer any questions. 

"Yes, Agent McCree?" The AI's voice replied.

"Is Angie still in surgery?" 

"She is, Agent McCree. Agent Shimada's vitals are currently within acceptable limits." 

"Alright... Thanks Athena. That's all." Jesse told the AI leaving his room to go wait on Hanzo. 

He doubted he would be alone, but he was still surprised to find Genji there with Zenyatta. The men were kneeling on the floor, both of Genji's hands clasped between the omnic's. Jesse hesitated in the doorway for a moment, watching the two men kneel only scant inches separating their knees, before carefully sidling over to the opposite part of the room and sitting in one of those uncomfortable hospital waiting room chairs. 

How was it that every hospital or doctor's office or clinic waiting room had the exact same chairs? 

He sat, wishing he had his hat, or a cigar, or even his lighter. Something to keep busy with, other than watching the clock tick on the wall or Zenyatta and Genji like some sort of creep. He settled between flicking between the couple, the clock, and counting the ceiling tiles. 

There were three hundred eighty-four in that waiting room. 

Movement in his periphery caught his attention and he flicked his eyes over to Genji, who was beginning to fidget and squirm, subtle at first but growing with intensity each passing minute. If he didn't know any better he'd liken it to a child having to use the bathroom. Jesse watched as one of Zenyatta's hands reached up and brushed against Genji's faceplate, as if he was brushing hair out of Genji's face before he leaned over and pressed the seam of his faceplate against Genji's forehead then where his mouth should be, gentle motions that were only eclipsed by how utterly _sweet_ the gesture was. 

"At ease my Sparrow." Jesse heard Zenyatta say softly, almost too softly for his human ears to pick up. 

"But Master it is taking so long. Shouldn't Hanzo be out by now?" He heard Genji reply, the faintest whining note permeating his friend's voice, almost childish. 

"It is a good thing. It means he is still alive. I am certain we will have an update soon. For now, have peace and harmony in your heart." Zenyatta pressed another 'kiss' against Genji's faceplate and Jesse swore he felt his heart squeeze so tightly it broke. 

He wanted a love like that. He wanted a 'hold your hand and kiss you while whispering encouragements during the most terrifying moments of your life' kind of love. He wanted long nights of laughter and lovemaking and just holding each other. He wanted waking up to not knowing where one person ended and the other began and morning breath kisses. He wanted shared showers and soapy mohawks and getting in each other's way while brushing their teeth. He wanted date nights and movie nights and dinners on the couch after missions. He wanted someone there when he woke up from a nightmare in a cold sweat. Wanted someone to come home to after missions. He wanted it all. 

More importantly, he wanted Hanzo to be the person he shared all of it with. 

The squeal of metal and plastic warping sounded in his ears before the soft chimes of Zenyatta's voice came, louder this time. "Are you alright McCree-Ji?" 

Suddenly Jesse realized he had not only been staring and scowling but had crushed and twisted the arm rest beneath his metal hand at the sight of the two of them being affectionate. He realized how that must look. 

"Yeah. Yeah... sorry Zenyatta, Genji. I just..." he trailed off, staring down at his hand while he forced himself to loosen his grip, returning the appendage to his lap before standing up. "I can go." He offered, only to have Zenyatta raise a hand in his direction. 

"Not necessary. We are in public, there is no need to give us any privacy. Besides, my Sparrow has shared the woes of your heart with me, concerning Hanzo. It is only natural that you would have such a reaction. Do not try to suppress it for our sake." 

Jesse couldn't help the deep groan that slid from his lips as he buried his head in his hands. "Genji... how could you?" He moaned, possibly more dramatically than necessary, but the stress of the day was bound to come out somehow. He heard the click of cybernetic feet on the tile, as he assumed Genji and Zenyatta came closer to him, but he couldn't bear to look, unsure of what he'd see on his friend's face. It was odd how expressive Genji could be when he wanted to be even with plating covering his face. 

"It's terribly easy to gossip about the thing keeping my boyfriends from my bed." Genji drawled much closer than Jesse anticipated. He could hear the tension in his friend's voice too. "Well. One of the things anyways." 

Jesse's brain processed what Genji had said much slower than he would have liked. "Did you just say..." he started, finally looking up at the standing cyborg, "Wait, do I wanna know the other?" 

"It would be something you're interested in knowing." Genji said, the taunt evident in his tone. "But I..." And here he cut himself off as the doors to the surgery wing of the med bay swooshed open. Lucio was standing there, dreadlocks pulled into a bun to keep them fully out of the way, but a tired grin on his face. 

"He'll make a full recovery." The medic announced, as Genji turned and sprinted across the room to envelop the smaller man in a hug. Jesse wasn't sure what he heard Genji say, his Japanese way rustier than he cared to admit. especially for such a distance and volume level. Combine that with the buzzing in his ears and he was lucky if he'd understand English at this point. 

Hanzo was going to be alright. Jesse could feel the relief rush over him like a tidal wave, sapping the strength and leftover adrenaline from his body in the span of a breath. Muscles going weak and shaky, Jesse couldn't help but slouch down in the uncomfortable seat. Not for the first time did he miss the fact that he forgot to grab his hat in his distraction when he left his room. He wanted nothing more than to rush into Hanzo's room and grab his hand, to murmur apologies against his skin, to be able to beg for forgiveness into the scratchy blankets. But it wasn't his place to be in there now. It was Genji's. Genji had already had so much taken from him, Jesse wasn't about to horn in on a moment that he had no rights to be in on. He could let Genji sort through his emotions on his own. He could process just fine from out here. He wouldn't go far, of course, not until he heard Hanzo was awake, but he didn't _need_ to be in Hanzo's room, waiting for him to open his eyes like they were in love or something. Jesse was well aware that his feelings were very one sided and reminding himself of that fact just made him slip further down into his seat, until his ass was almost entirely off of the chair. 

He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice Lucio moving near him until the younger man was already speaking "-f I sit here with you?" Lucio was saying as Jesse looked up at him, blinking slowly before nodding once. "Sweet. Thanks man. I appreciate these braces but they hurt like hell after a while, y'know?" Jesse realized he was staring, only comprehending about half of what the medic was saying but nodded anyways even as the shorter man sat down in the space immediately next to him, "I'm surprised you didn't follow Genji into the back." 

Jesse shook his head there, hair that had long since dried curly shaking into his eyes. It would straighten out some after he combed it out. "'S not my place. Genji needs the time." 

"I get that. It's why I didn't follow Genji in myself. All this between us is way too new for me to always be able to be in his space. But don't let the feeling like you don't belong keep you from actually going to see him. Hanzo'd be glad to see you." 

"It's my fault he's here." Jesse replied, ducking his head again as he gestured towards the doors. "The grenade was meant for me." 

"And you saved his life. He would have bled out before the transport arrived if you hadn't been there to help him. So, don't sell yourself short man. He obviously likes you, at least a little. And even if he doesn't return your feelings the way you want him to, he's a good enough guy to not hate you for it." 

"He might not hate me, but straight men get kinda weirded out when a gay man hits on them." Jesse pointed out with a sigh. "An' I'd rather be his friend than have him look at me weird because I told him I've been moonin' over him like some lovesick teenager." 

"I get that. It's a valid fear. I can't force you to push through it and tell him. But I think it'd be better for you if you did. Less stress that way. Keeping feelings bottled up isn't good for you. But like I said. Your choice." The medic shrugged and leaned back against the plastic back of the seat, arms folded behind his head. "But for real man, you gonna be okay? You look rough."

"Yeah." Jesse replied, "I always bounce back. Ya don't gotta worry about me none." he reached up to pull his hat a little lower over his eyes, to hide the shadows he knew lurked there, only to meet air instead. 

Lucio's sharp eyes had to be tracking his movements, for in the next moment the other man sat back up straight. "You want a hug? You look like you could use one." Jesse turned to look at Lucio, half expecting it to be a trap just out of years of instinct he couldn't seem to shake. He couldn't remember the last time someone asked him if he actually wanted one. Gabe used to pull him into one armed hugs that weren't really hugs. 

"Yeah. Yeah that sounds good." Lucio stood and held his arms out, and Jesse stood up himself, awkwardly shuffling forward until the smaller man was able to wrap his arms around his shoulders. Only then did Jesse wrap his arms around Lucio's waist in return still feeling somewhat awkward as the man squeezed him. He couldn't deny that being held felt good. Slowly he started to melt into the embrace, letting his eyes shut and letting some of the stress of the day go as Lucio held him tighter. He had just loosed a shaky exhale as the doors slid open again and Zenyatta floated out. Immediately Jesse went stock still worried he had overstepped some sort of invisible boundary. 

"At ease, McCree-Ji." Zenyatta's gentle voice told him. "There is no harm at giving or receiving such a simple comfort. I would offer a hug myself, but I must admit, metal is nowhere near as comforting as my dear Songbird is." Jesse couldn't help but notice the color flood Lucio's cheeks at the nickname and his own heart ached again. He wanted that kind of over-sweet affection for himself so badly he could almost taste it. Lucio gave him another squeeze, as if he could feel the agony that had suddenly flooded him. 

The doors swished open again, and the click of cybernetics on tile made McCree pull back in earnest, looking over at Genji. "You're not staying?" Jesse asked, surprised. 

"He's alive, stable, and unconscious. He doesn't need me staying and staring at him when he sleeps. We're not those kinds of brothers. He'll know I was there." Genji stated, shrugging one shoulder. "Besides, if I were to stay any longer I'd need a sharpie." 

"D'ya mind if I then...?" Jesse asked, stepping back and jerking a thumb towards the doors. 

"Go visit? If you want. Just don't stare holes in him. He'll know and throw something at you when he wakes up." Jesse gave a jerky nod and started towards the doors to where Genji just came out of. He knew it'd probably be a few days until Hanzo was moved into the actual med bay where most of them spent their recovery. But for now, while he was still possibly in need of more surgery, he'd stay in the surgery wing. Everything smelled extra sterile, but these were all recovery rooms, so it was just a matter of finding the right one. 

The beeping gave it away before anything else. The steady beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor made something unclench inside Jesse. Hanzo's pulse was strong and just that was more reassuring than anything else. He entered the room slowly, holding his breath, until he could see Hanzo resting in the bed, dark hair spilling out behind him. He wasn't nearly as pale as before, though that could easily be how white the sheets and blankets were. Jesse pulled the one chair in the room to the side of the bed not occupied by tubes or wires or machines, and sat heavily in it, taking Hanzo's hand between both of his. 

"Han, I am so sorry. You shouldn't'a had to go through this. Not for me." He pressed his forehead to the back of Hanzo's hand, almost as if he were praying. "I hope you'll still let me make ya dinner when you wake up an' you're able to leave here. I promise I'll make anythin' ya want. Even if it's some fancy Japanese shit I have to watch how to videos for. Anythin' for you Hanzo. All you gotta do is ask." 

Jesse McCree was not a religious man. But he'd be a liar if the last thought on his mind before the day's exhaustion caught up with him wasn't a prayer of thanks for Hanzo still being alive and in one piece. And Jesse McCree tried very hard these days to tell the truth. For most things anyways. 


	6. Chapter 6

Hanzo woke slowly, the incessant beeping of his alarm driving him crazy. There was nowhere he needed to be so there was honestly no reason for it to be going off. He couldn't even remember setting it. He opened his eyes with a groan, reaching for the bedside table to shut off the alarm only to find.... nothing? He forced his eyes to focus and took in the white walls and the equipment around him. Slowly at first, then all at once the memory of the mission came flooding back to him. Seeing the enemy, stopping the grenade, then... nothing. 

"Hey man, good morning." Hanzo's head snapped up at the voice, fixing the owner of it with his best glare. Lucio was unperturbed, laughing good naturedly at the reaction. "Sorry, I know me being here has to be a shock. Jesse and Genji had to go to a secondary debriefing, and they wanted someone here in case you woke up again." 

The medic wheeled over to his bedside, pouring him a glass of cool water and offering it to him with a smile. He took it and sipped gingerly, still glowering. "How many times have I woken up?" Hanzo asked after a while, voice raspy and deeper with sleep and disuse. 

"Oh, three or four, at least once a day, not counting that first one. But judging by how lucid you are I think it'll stick this time." Hanzo huffed, resisting the urge to look for his injury. There would be time enough for that in private. 

"And my brother has been here?" He asked instead, arms folding across his chest, mindful of all of the tubes and wires connected to him. The urge to just tear them out and leave was incredibly strong, but he knew that would cause more harm than good. 

"Yeah, quite a bit. Same with Jesse. The times when they're both here are kinda funny, because they both want to be the one holding your hand but there's really only room for one of them, so neither of them winds up doing it because they're waiting for the other to." Lucio explained with a laugh. "They just stand against this wall pouting." The medic motioned to the wall furthest from Hanzo. He could almost picture his brother's expression, trying so hard to be cool and stoic and failing miserably. 

"Why J-... Why McCree?" Hanzo corrected himself, as Lucio shrugged, putting his hands back on the arm rests of his wheelchair. 

"You'll have to ask him when he gets back. Honestly, they've been at debriefing for an hour and a half now, so it should be any minute. Can I get you anything?" 

"Unless you are able to unhook me from all of these..." He gestured with the arm that was connected to IVs and various wires, "There is nothing that can be done for me." Lucio laughed at that, another happy sound. 

"Well it seems like you're actually not too badly under the influence anymore, so I can talk to Angela and see what she recommends. You should drink some water." Lucio told him, pouring him a glass from the pitcher on the nightstand, and offering it to him, complete with a bent straw. Ridiculous. Though... He was thirsty. He took the glass and waited for Lucio to turn around so he could wheel himself back to his previous spot to drink, returning the glass to its place, narrowing his eyes at - but otherwise ignoring - the tug and pain in his abdomen. 

He had had worse. 

Hanzo had no sooner settled back into his previous spot when the door opened and Jesse and Genji entered, the former looking surprised to see him awake and the latter instantly pushing to his side, inquiring in Japanese about how he was feeling. Hanzo waved him off easily, replying that he was fine, and ready to go back to his quarters in Japanese as well, before looking up and meeting eyes with Jesse. 

"Hey Hanzo. Glad to see you're doin' better." Jesse said after a few tense moments of eye contact, He watched the other man duck his head almost, before lifting off his hat to run a hand through his hair. "Been real worried about ya." 

"This was just a minor injury. I've been through worse." He replied, causing Genji to lift his head up, and Hanzo could almost see the smug grin behind his faceplate. 

"See, _told you_ he'd be fine Jesse." His younger brother said haughtily, before moving to his side, sliding his faceplate off to reveal a shit-eating grin, "So _anija_ ," Genji taunted, sitting on the edge of the bed and facing him. "How much of the past few days do you remember?" 

"Nothing. Why?" He asked, guarded. The way his brother was behaving meant one of two things. Either he had said something incriminating, or Genji was attempting to. 

"Now Genji, don't go causin' trouble." Jesse warned, and Hanzo swore he could kiss the man just for sheer thankfulness that Jesse was on his side. Though the slight bit of pink to his cheeks meant that perhaps Jesse had ulterior motives. 

"I'm just gonna leave you three alone. Don't bug them too much Genji." Lucio instructed, as he wheeled past Jesse towards the door. There was a dual set of swooshes, and an enthusiastic wave from Genji, and Lucio had left. 

"What's the matter Jesse-san?" Genji asked, deliberately using the honorific with his cloyingly sweet tone. "Don't want Hanzo to know what you did?" Hanzo turned his head from Genji to Jesse, whose face was now properly red. "And you don't want to see Hanzo's reaction when I tell him what he said?" 

Jesse began sputtering out a 'Now just wait a minute', but Hanzo cut him off with a touch to his arm and a shake of his head. 

"Leave us Genji." He ordered, tone leaving no room for disobedience. It was a tone he seldom used anymore. A tone that he had kept locked away since leaving his position of Shimada heir. But now, now it was important. Even though his tone was harsh, he knew Genji would be able to read the uncertainty in his expression, veiled as it was. There were things bigger than Genji at play, things that Hanzo hadn't even figured out for himself yet. He wasn't about to let his younger brother go mucking them up before he had a chance to sort it out himself. 

Genji's playful expression turned into a frown, pouting. He looked at Jesse for support, and Hanzo knew the routine. He had done the same thing with their father when Hanzo had ordered him around once upon a time ago. Jesse looked between the two brothers for a moment, before shaking his head. 

"Sorry Genji. I think this is somethin' your brother an' I should talk about alone. If ya don't mind." For his credit, Jesse's tone was genuinely apologetic. 

"I do mind. This is a once in a lifetime event. My brother actually -" Hanzo cut Genji off by throwing one of his pillows at the side of Genji's head. Genji turned and leveled a glare at Hanzo, before crinkling his face up in a pout again. He slid his faceplate back into place and stood. "I can tell when I'm not wanted. I'll be with Lucio and Zenyatta if you change your mind and want me back." Hanzo wasn't sure if he should be surprised or disappointed that after all these years Genji hadn't lost the flair for the dramatic. His brother left the room pausing just outside the doorway as if they would really call him back, before he turned on his heel and went towards the main doors. 

"So." Hanzo said, looking back at Jesse, arms folded as much as the tubes and wires would allow. 

"So...." Jesse replied, starting to fidget in place before forcibly stilling himself. 

"I hear you had been here while I was.... recovering?" Hanzo stated, tilting his head ever so slightly. 

"Yeah. I... uh... occupied that chair over there most of the time." Jesse gestured to the chair next to Hanzo's bed, the one that looked incredibly uncomfortable. Though, to be fair, what he knew of hospitals were they were _filled_ with chairs that were uncomfortable. Probably to dissuade guests from staying long hours. 

"From how often Lucio said you and Genji were here, you must be tired." Hanzo remarked, thankful they were not talking about actual _emotions_ anymore. 

"Naw, I've slept in worse places. I mean...." Jesse trailed off, flushing slightly, as he realized he had just admitted to sleeping at Hanzo's bedside while the other man was here. Hanzo's eyes went wide for a moment, then narrowed in confusion. 

"Why?" he asked, slowly as if he were waiting for some sort of punchline to a joke, one that had already been set up as unsavory.

"Well, t'be honest, I was worried about you. I mean, you got hurt savin' me, and I just...." Jesse shrugged, running his hand through his hair. "I've been told I should tell you but before I do I jus' gotta say if you don't feel the same way I understand an' I don't want it to be weird." 

"Tell me what, McCree?" Hanzo asked, narrowing his eyes now. 

"Well..." Jesse took a fortifying breath and let it out slowly, "I like you." The words were said haltingly and Hanzo's expression melted from suspicion to confusion. 

"Well, yes, I like you too McCree. I was under the impression that we had become friends." 

"No.... Han... I... Like you. Romantically." The words were said with large gaps between them, Jesse shifting in place and pulling at the sleeves of his sweater, looking out of place without his hat (Hanzo spared a single thought to wonder where it had gone in the last few moments) and looking as if he was expecting the world to crash down around him. 

And then Hanzo processed what had been said. 

Roaring filled his ears momentarily, and he was vaguely aware of his mouth falling open. He forced it shut with a click, swallowed, and shook his head slightly. "Pardon, I think I translated something wrong. You.... Have romantic feelings.... for me?" He repeated, frowning slightly. There was only one question in his mind. One that he had to voice. "Why?" Why would anyone want to romance an old ex-yakuza (though really there was no such thing as _ex-_ yakuza, just ones who were dead) who didn't know the first thing about making friends much less having a boyfriend? Why would anyone want to romance someone with so much baggage they couldn't sleep lest they fear they'd wake up from a nightmare that left the feeling of blood so firmly on his hands no amount of scrubbing could remove it? 

"Well, yeah. You're really special and can be funny too. An' you're smart as hell." Jesse was still looking everywhere but at Hanzo's face. "I jus'... really like the time we spend together s'all. But I understand if you don' feel the same way. I know it can be kinda weird to have someone come in an' tell you all this. I don' want ya to feel pressured in any way. I jus' figured I needed to put it all out there or else we'd keep goin' in circles and..." Hanzo held up a hand now, and the movement drew McCree's attention, the man falling silent in the middle of his sentence. 

"You are fine. As much as it is against my better judgement, as I am not as collected as I may seem, but I feel.... similarly." He wasn't able to say the words yet, he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to. But Jesse practically melted in relief. 

"Ya do?" Hanzo nodded, one sharp move in response to the question. "Oh, thank God. I was so worried this was gonna ruin our friendship an' I didn' want that. But when I saw you bleedin' on the ground, after you took that hit for me.... I just...." McCree trailed off, and Hanzo reached out, resting his hand on the metal of McCree's forearm. They sat there in silence for a while, Hanzo just touching the other man's arm. 

"I must admit that was not my brightest moment." He said after a while. "I had anticipated that going differently." That drew a laugh out of McCree, and the dark shadows behind his eyes lightened a bit. 

"Well obviously." he replied, and Hanzo scooted over on the bed, beckoning McCree to sit. As McCree did, Hanzo moved him wordlessly so they were shoulder to shoulder on the small bed. Neither of them fit properly but it worked. Besides, he was done talking. He would later blame the mild medication he was still on for his talkativeness, but in reality, it was just how he had come to find solace in Jesse with him, a true testament to his feelings for the other man. 

It was easy to relax around McCree. The cowboy was so warm, and the way he easily just draped an arm over his shoulders, made it easy to relax. Hanzo wasn't sure when he had developed emotions of a romantic nature towards the man. They seemed to just materialize out of thin air. Perhaps he had just been fighting himself on the idea of a romantic relationship for so long that there was just no slow build up, that all of the feelings burst through at once. Perhaps it was just the fact that nobody had shown concern for him outside of his brother in so long. He couldn't remember the last time someone aside from Genji had been genuinely interested in _him_ and not just his status. Whatever the reason, Hanzo closed his eyes and took a breath, thankful that the weight of his emotions was finally off of his soul. 

Hanzo hadn't realized he fell asleep until he woke with a start to hands on him. He yanked his arm away, hand balling into a fist as his eyes flew open, ready to strike. At least he had been until he realized that it was only Dr. Ziegler checking his vitals. 

"Easy there, Sugarplum," McCree told him, still at his side. He had been using the man's chest as a pillow, and he had to admit that the warmth and softness was a comfort. He knew how well muscled McCree was, and liked that he was able to allow himself to gain a softer edge, no longer just a weapon. Hanzo huffed at McCree's words, but stilled regardless, offering his arm back to the good doctor. 

"Your vitals look good. The nanobots seem to be doing their job. Not that I had any doubts." She pressed lightly on his stomach through the flimsy hospital gown. "How is your pain?" 

Better when she didn't push on his healing injury but "Fine," he replied, the pain was tolerable. Especially if it meant him getting out of here sooner. The good doctor just hummed thoughtfully and looked at one of the ever-beeping monitors. 

"I suppose we could remove some of the peripheral devices and get you up and walking around again now that you are lucid. Perhaps you should step out of the room for a moment Jesse? This should only take a minute." 

Hanzo saw Jesse's relaxation turn to concern and nerves out of the corner of his eye. After all, Jesse wouldn't be thinking of the tubes that would be embarrassing to pull out, such as the catheter. Normally Hanzo wouldn't have any shame in getting medical equipment removed from him, but with such a new relationship, if this could even be called a relationship, He would much rather have that privacy. "It will be fine Jesse." He told the man, patting his arm and shooing him away. Honestly, he'd much rather remove that particular tube himself, but he was sure Angela would want to check his injury as well and that would make it easy for him to see the damage. It didn't hurt too terribly, but he was certain that fact meant nothing. Jesse gave a short nod, and stood, causing Hanzo to miss his heat almost immediately.  Hanzo tried not to watch as Jesse left, instead focusing impassively on Dr. Zeigler, arms folded as she marked things down in his chart.

When Jesse left and the doors to his room were shut again, Angela moved closer, narrating what she was doing as she worked. When his bandages were being changed he got a look at several smaller angry red marks and a larger, but no less angry looking one. Vaguely he recalled something about nanobots working from the inside out. But he couldn't be quite certain. 

"We all like him you know. Those of us from the original Overwatch." There was no doubt in Hanzo's mind who the 'he' Dr. Ziegler was referring to was. "We've known him since he was just a young man," her tone was deceptively casual, even as she pressed on a tender spot hard enough to make him grit his teeth to avoid wincing. "If he is done any harm.... It would not end well for the offending party." She finished, applying the fresh bandage.

"Lucky for you, McCree is excellent at handling his own business." Hanzo's reply was clipped, face slipping easily back into the mask he most often used, calm, disinterested, waiting for the conversation to be over so he could leave. Still, it brought up a lot of old problems for him. The thought of his actions or his past bringing harm to McCree, intentional or otherwise.... He didn't know if he could bear it. The last thing he wanted was to see McCree injured, and he'd take a hundred, no, a _thousand_ grenades to the stomach to prove it. Worse if the situation called for it. The thought brought the vaguest recollection of metal in his mouth, hissing at Genji to finish the mission, seeing the fear in McCree's eyes, but he ignored it, pushing it back down and sealing it in the same box that all other unpleasantness in his past went into. 

"Be that as it may, just know that he has family all around him. And they'd hate to see him treated poorly." She began putting things away again, "There are some pants in the closet. I can help you get dressed so you may begin moving around, or Jesse or Genji would be glad to help you I'm sure." Just like that the threatening part of this conversation seemed to be over. Genji would be certain to have a laugh if he heard about what was going on. 

"I will be fine on my own," He stated simply. When looking over to the closet his eyes passed the table where McCree's hat was perched. So that was where the thing had gotten off to. The man must really be scattered if he had forgotten it so easily. The doctor hummed and retrieved his clothing from the closet herself. 

"Do not walk without help until you are certain you are steady on your feet." The instructions were clear and professional, no sign of the calmly threatening doctor any longer, before Dr. Zeigler left the room. Hanzo huffed disdainfully as he pulled on the sleep pants he had been provided with, choosing to remain shirtless rather than wear the hospital gown that was provided. He still had the IV attached to him after all, but all of the other supplementary equipment had been removed. 

He pulled the sleep pants to his knees and stood, wobbling and offering a mental curse for the fact that his legs felt like jelly beneath him. He should have suspected that after several days he would be weakened, especially with the doctor's warning. But he was stubborn and was able to walk by leaning on the IV pole and the wall. He grabbed McCree's hat and moved to the door, opening it to reveal a very surprised McCree, hand poised to knock. In a swift motion, Hanzo reached up, placing that ridiculous hat back on McCree's head. 

"Come," Hanzo said, "I wish to walk." 

"Yeah, alright." McCree replied, moving out of the way so Hanzo could exit, as he adjusted his hat. "Thanks for grabbin' my hat. I was feelin' almost naked without her." Hanzo half snorted in reply, giving a short nod, gripping his IV pole tightly to keep himself up out of sheer force of will. This reminded him of the last time he had the flu. He had been bedridden for almost a full week, only leaving his bed to go to the bathroom, and that had been an exercise in weakness and chills that he really had no interest in ever repeating. 

"Is the good doctor always so concerned about your welfare?" He asked when they were halfway down the hall, causing McCree to look over at the sudden break in the silence. 

"What? Angie? I guess. Always tryin' to get me to quit smokin' an' whatnot." McCree scratched at his beard. "Why?" 

"She threatened me, claiming that if I hurt you 'it would not end well'." Hanzo gave a wry smirk here, "As if she, or anyone else here, had the skills necessary to bring me in while I was in top form." Genji maybe, but he was almost certain his younger brother was on his side in this. "Even now I could escape, if I so desired." 

"Yeah, I'm sure you could. I'd be real sad to see ya go though. 'Specially since I still owe you dinner." 

Hanzo paused, looking up at McCree again, "You still wish to make me dinner?" 

"Well, yeah," McCree stated, as if it were obvious. As if he hadn't just failed spectacularly at a task he should have been able to complete on the mission. "An' now that we've talked about all of this...." McCree gestured with a wave of his hand, "between us, maybe I can get a kiss at the end of it." There was a sly smile on the cowboy's face and Hanzo attempted to keep the color from his cheeks through sheer force of will as he looked away. 

It was astounding how McCree forgave his imperfections so easily. Nobody, not even himself, had ever been so lenient with him. Save for Genji, but he was convinced that Genji didn't count because his younger brother never strove for perfection. McCree was near perfect at what he did however, so it only made sense that the man would want perfection from him as well. It only left Hanzo with one question, what was his game?

Realizing a response was necessary to McCree's suggestion Hanzo huffed softly. "Perhaps, if your food doesn't kill me beforehand." The jab brought a laugh to McCree's lips, and the sound echoed throughout the hall. Even as injured as he was, even how likely that this was to end in a spectacular failure, Hanzo found himself thinking that he could get used to those easy laughs and the easier companionship. Romance had never come easily to Hanzo. There were times when it was expected and that was an entirely different situation to the one he found himself in now. 

Yes, there was a clenching and fluttering in his chest whenever he saw McCree smile. Yes, there was an ache for the man's companionship. Yes, McCree could draw him out of a mood or temper it without even trying. This was all entirely new to him. This was not a relationship brought on by the elders. 

This was entirely and utterly new. 

He could find himself relying on McCree for more than just his warm body and good drink, could find himself more than liking the man's affections and the way they warmed him through, could find himself thinking that there was a forever in the cowboy's smile. 

And Hanzo had never had a more terrifying thought.   



	7. Chapter 7

Jesse could go on for ages about all of the things he adored about Hanzo. The way his muscles rippled during training or combat. The winding tattoo that seemed to hum with energy and begged to have fingertips trace it. The way water dripped down every plane and curve of his torso. the softness that filled his eyes, if only momentarily, as he found a joke amusing. The subtle quirk of his lips or nose that accompanied it. 

It wasn't just the physical that Jesse was enamored with either. There were mental aspects too. His cactus sharp wit and sense of humor, drier than the desert sands after a month without rain. He could listen to Hanzo talk about anything and everything, even if it was something as simple as proper bow maintenance. Not that Hanzo spoke a whole hell of a lot. Even with how much more the man spoke when they were alone together, it still couldn't be considered a _lot_. 

It made those extended sentences all the more special to him. Honestly, Jesse didn't know where he got so lucky. After all he was some half abandoned little shit that had walked through hell and back before Blackwatch offered him a chance at something halfway decent. All of the stupid things he had done, knowing he was old enough to know better, but still doing it anyways. And yet, such a special man had chosen him....

Jesse still thought that he had actually been blown to pieces by that grenade and this was his own personal hell, getting to see and live everything that he had had the potential to have, but was going to have it all pulled away from him at the worst moment. 

Jesse wasn't going to let that stop him however. He had promised Hanzo a kick ass dinner and that was what he was going to give him. He had spent the week that Hanzo had been recovering outside of the infirmary looking through all of the old recipe files Gabriel had left him, trying to find the perfect dishes, then researching and pestering Genji to see if he could find some of Hanzo's favorite things from home. 

That left him in the kitchen, wearing an apron he inherited from Gabe, emblazoned with a peach and an eggplant. Jack always scowled at him when he wore it, shouting at him to "Take that damn thing off already!" while Ana and Reinhardt snickered behind their mugs of tea. He didn't understand what was so funny, Gabe always said that he'd tell Jesse when he was older, and Ana took over that job when Gabe....left so suddenly. Sure, he _could_ ask Athena, but at this point he was sure he didn't want to know.

He had spent the last couple days practicing some of Gabe's old recipes, taquitos, tamales and a mac and cheese that he swore could have given him an orgasm when he was seventeen and stupid, along with some chicken curry rice dish and mochi to serve to Hanzo. He wasn't going to call their dinner a date, because Hanzo hadn't _agreed_ to call it a date and he didn't want to just make that decision for the man. He wanted to still put out a good spread of their favorites. 

Tonight was the big night, and he had just begun cooking, though Hanzo wasn't due for a couple hours. He was getting everything started, prepping the quicker cooking items, and already putting the slower cooking items together. He was swaying in place, humming some song that he didn't know the words to, but Gabe always hummed when he cooked. It was another habit that he picked up from Gabe that he couldn't seem to shake. Or rather, he didn't want to. Jesse paused from dicing meats and vegetables on his counter top, and turned with the knife still in his hand, 

Still as a statue, Hanzo was sitting at the island behind him, just watching him work. 

Jesse jumped, large knife being tossed up into the air, before he caught it again in a panic, blade first in his metal hand. The sensors in the limb registered the fact that if he had caught the knife with his flesh hand, he'd be headed to Angela for stitches right now, but he wasn't too worried, considering he was still trying to get his heart to beat in a regular rhythm again. Seeing Hanzo sitting there silently, dressed in a button down and watching him with those storm cloud eyes, stole Jesse's breath away and he could hardly believe that the man could look even better than he normally did. 

"Your survival instincts are lacking, Cowman." Hanzo stated, almost bored, though Jesse could see the mirth in his eyes. 

"Actually it's 'cowboy'," Jesse corrected, without thinking. 

"No, I believe you are all man," Hanzo replied, quirking his eyebrow with a faint smirk. 

Well shoot. Flirting on top of seeing the best damn thing he'd ever seen before? Jesse was certain he was most definitely dead. Jesse stared, gaping like a fish with the faintest flush creeping across his tanned skin, sensors in his hand still registering that the knife clutched in it was _sharp_. Suddenly, he shut his mouth with a click, setting the knife on the counter and lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair. Even in jeans and a t-shirt under the apron, he had definitely planned to change at some point during the cooking process, he kept his hat and boots. 

"How long have you been here?" Jesse finally asked, gesturing to the island between them. 

"Long enough to not only hear your humming and see your dancing around, but to kill you several times over had I so wished." Came Hanzo's dry - and no doubt carefully measured - reply while the man himself inspected his pristine nails. Jesse gave a passing thought to his own hands, rough and calloused and looking perpetually dirty, with dry skin galore. He really should have taken better care of them over the years but he just didn't have the time, or if he was being honest, he didn't have the _energy_ to keep up a skin care routine that would leave his hands as nice looking as Hanzo's were. 

Logically, Jesse knew there were going to be callouses on Hanzo's hands, from his bow and any other weapons he used. However, Jesse couldn't remember what Hanzo's hand had felt like between his own. Aside from that day in the infirmary where they told each other how they had felt, they hadn't been too particularly close. Jesse knew how Hanzo craved his space. Jesse still was a romantic at heart and wanted nothing more than to reach over and hold Hanzo's hand right now, to learn every dip and scrape, to feel the warmth fill his soul. 

A soft beep drew his attention and he startled again, though nowhere near as violently this time, turning to address whatever part of the meal needed addressing. 

"I hope your hungry Han, I made more than enough for us. I've made tamales, Gabe said his abuela got the recipe from her abuela, who got the recipe from _her_ _abuela_ , though Gabe was like 99% full of shit so who really knows, but they're mighty good. Then there are taquitos, filled with pulled, slow roasted chicken, another one of Gabe's recipes, I think he made it up himself, but it honestly doesn't matter. It's a family recipe now. And then there's the mac n' cheese. Now some people might say there's such a thing as too much cheese. But those people are somethin' I like to call "dirty rotten liars". I also did some research and ran a few things by Genji. I'm makin' a chicken curry thing and somethin' called mochi which honestly may be a disaster. But it's worth a shot anyways." 

Hanzo was staring at him when he turned around, and then, almost as if for the first time, Hanzo's eyes moved to take in all of the different pots and pans scattered around the stove. The look on Hanzo's face morphed slowly from "intentional indifference" to the something Jesse guessed was closer to abject horror. 

"You do not expect us to eat all of this do you?" Hanzo eventually asked, slowly, as if he was worried about upsetting him. 

"Naw, Sugarplum. After we've eaten our fill I figure you can choose whether or not we keep it for leftovers just for us, or if we open it up to the rest of the base."

"Oh. Good." Jesse could see the relief that settled onto Hanzo's features, even though he was sure most people would miss it or misread it. Jesse had been trying very hard these last few weeks - and even before if he was being truthful - to learn how to read the many subtle moods and expressions of Hanzo Shimada. 

Jesse moved to the counter again and grabbed a small spoon from one of the drawers, dipping it into the curry sauce. He pulled a small bit of it out, just a taste really, carrying the spoon over to Hanzo. "Here, try." Jesse tried very hard not to be jealous as Hanzo's lips closed over the spoon. He wasn't certain but he _thought_ he could feel Hanzo's tongue working over the metal. Although he put a stop to that train of thought, he was sure that it would feature in later fantasies. "Well?" He asked once Hanzo had pulled free of the - now empty - spoon. 

"It is passable." Hanzo said, the faintest smile upon his lips. 

"Yeah? Just passable?" Jesse teased, taking the smile as an opening. 

"Do not get a swelled head cowboy." Hanzo replied, leaning both arms on the counter again. 

"Naw, that'll come later once we're in bed." Jesse said with a wink. Hanzo flushed here, cheeks turning a wonderful shade of pink. Jesse watched as Hanzo pulled his arms closer to his body, not quite holding himself, but somewhat defensive. 

"Don't assume that just because you're feeding me, I'm going to crawl into your bed." The words were snippy, but Jesse just reached out and touched Hanzo's arm, kind. 

"I would never assume such a thing, Honeybee. I was jokin', an' besides. As much as I would love to see you come undone in all the best ways, I like you for you more. I won't push for nothin' you don't want." They shared eye contact, or an approximation of it, for a moment while Hanzo's stubborn flush just increased in volume, before Jesse leaned in and pressed a kiss to the other man's forehead. Jesse then turned around and busied himself with the cooking, to give Hanzo time to process. 

"I am not...." Hanzo started, and Jesse looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Hanzo seemed conflicted, and so Jesse waited, tending to the food in the meantime. "I do not wish to have sex." Hanzo finally admitted. Jesse was confused, but not put off. 

"Alright. We don't have to." Jesse went and leaned against the counter. "Is this a tonight thing, or an ever thing?" He was careful to keep his body language controlled, as to not spook Hanzo off. But he was genuinely curious. Not that he had never turned anyone down before, but the person doing it had never sounded so sad, so conflicted. So worried that he was just going to up and leave. 

"Both? I am not.... quite sure..." 

"Alright. No pressure." Jesse moved around the island, and sat next to Hanzo, taking his hand. He gently brushed some hair out of Hanzo's face as he stayed quiet for a long moment, taking the time to map Hanzo's hand with his fingers, turning it over so he could kiss each fingertip, then the meat of his palm. "I ain't gonna lie and say I haven't thought about it, but even if we never had sex, so long as I could still get to see you, an' hang out with you, maybe even cuddle ya or kiss ya a bit, I'd be a happy man, and I appreciate how hard it musta been to have told me." 

"Sap," Hanzo muttered, the pink returning to his cheeks in full force over the course of his reply as he stared at their joined hands.

Jesse shrugged, "Yeah, that I am. But I'm also a man who knows what he wants. Who knows _who_ he wants. And I ain't about to let a good thing pass by because'a one little difference. So you gotta get used to me bein' a sap." He gave Hanzo's hand a soft squeeze before taking his free hand and using it to move his hat from his head into Hanzo's. "Besides, you look mighty fine in my hat."

Hanzo snorted, "Cease your foolishness." The jab was without the bite of true irritation, so Jesse leaned in to peck him on the cheek. 

The rest of the meal preparation went similarly, with Jesse teasing Hanzo and offering him tastes, and Hanzo telling him to stop and calling him a fool in a way that Jesse could only describe as fond. 

The only hiccup that came was Genji, poking his head in and refusing to be shooed off for more than a minute, insisting he had to talk to Jesse for 'just a second'. Jesse followed him to the hallway and found himself pressed to the wall with a solid thump and a hand over his mouth.

"We are good friends Jesse, that is the only reason why I am not dangling you from the watchpoint as I give you this warning." Genji hissed, the sound quiet as his steam vents. "But if you hurt my brother at all, I will take your corpse and feed it to the koi at my old estate. Understand?" 

Jesse nodded against the hand, resisting the urge to throw Genji off of him and through the wall. 

"Good." Just as suddenly as he had been manhandled into his position he was removed from it, being shoved rather unceremoniously back into the kitchen,  nearly stumbling over his own feet as he attempted to regain his balance. Hanzo was as he had left him, sipping tea at the island counter wearing Jesse's cowboy hat. 

"Problems, McCree?" Hanzo asked, delicately powerful eyebrow raising towards the cowboy hat. 

"Naw. Genji just gave me a little brotherly threat over your honor 's all. Threatened to feed my corpse to the koi back at your old home." 

Hanzo hummed at Jesse's words. "He's usually much more violent in his threats. Though be thankful it's only him you have to worry about. Threats of bodily harm become rather boring after the third time." Jesse mentally ticked off who could have given Hanzo the shovel talk but could only come up with two. The Amaris. Jesse didn't know who would be a more threatening opponent. Fareeha and her suit or Ana and that quiet competent way that she was able to out shoot the best. 

"Ana and Fareeha I understand. Ana and Gabe practically raised me and 'Reeha as siblings. But who else?" He questioned, honestly confused. As far as he was aware nobody else really cared for him that much, aside from Genji who obviously, and understandably, was taking Hanzo's side in this relationship.

"Doctor Ziegler, and that old soldier. I believe his name is Jack? His was certainly the most creative." 

Jesse's heart almost cracked with how touched he was. He honestly hadn't known Jack cared that much. Back in the old days the man had certainly only seemed to put up with his presence for Gabe's sake. It was on days like this that he missed Gabe so much, if only because he had no clue what the man would say in the current situation. He liked to think that he'd give a comparison to him and Jack before the stress of a multinational overt and covert peacekeeping organization forced them apart. Maybe something along the lines of 'Learn from my mistakes kid. Don't keep secrets. Don't doubt your partner.' and then ruffling his hair before pulling him into a headlock, like he had back when they were all a hell of a lot younger. 

"Don't worry about them." Jesse finally said, quiet, reaching over and taking Hanzo's hand. "I know you have no intention of hurtin' me."   


Hanzo was silent for a long moment, eyes directed away from Jesse's softly earnest gaze. "Yes... Well you know what they say about the road to hell." 

"Paved with good intentions or not, I've been to hell an' back. I ain't afraid of it no more. Now had you asked me back when I was seventeen an' sittin' in a dank, dark, dungeon cell, oh I was mighty scared of hell back then. Thought I was in the middle of it." 

"And then?" Hanzo prompted, looking up at Jesse. It was now Jesse's turn to look away, lost in the memory of his last days with Deadlock. 

"An' then I was given the keys to my own destiny and I ain't never looked back." The kitchen timer dinged and Jesse released Hanzo's hand, spell broken. There was a clatter of plates as Jesse began serving up the food, protests ignored when Hanzo pressed into his space to help. 

"For what it is worth Jesse McCree," Hanzo began, looking up at him from under the brim of Jesse's cowboy hat, "I have no intention of harming you either." 

"Why Sugarplum, that's the best thing I've heard all night." Jesse replied with a grin, before leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to Hanzo's lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there it is. The end. My first finished multichapter work. 
> 
> If you notice any mistakes please let me know. 
> 
> Also, as always, kudos and comments are super duper appreciated. 
> 
> At some point I may make a sequel featuring them further into their relationship, or how the genji/zen/lucio thing happened. Or I may just leave it up to your imaginations. Who knows. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride!


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